Supreme Reflections: Volume 1
by MarvelMaster616
Summary: A series of short character vignettes that takes place within the pages of X-men Supreme Volume 1: Mutant Revolution. It covers Logan, Ororo, Rogue, Kitty Pryde, and Magneto. See each character reflect on the events of their lives.
1. Logan

**Supreme Reflections  
Volume 1**

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AN: This story is a collection of short vignettes for certain characters during specific points in Volume 1. If you haven't read Volume 1 already, I suggest you do because I'll be citing some of the events. Many are simple character musings that hopefully fill in some of the blanks left by their respective stories in the first volume. They should also add some back story to their past, some of which is derived from the bios I have on the official X-men Supreme website. So think of these as one-shot specials similar to those that make it onto comic stands once in a while. As such, their contents are in continuity and I'll reference wherever and whenever these scenes take place. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own X-men or any of the characters. They are the property of Marvel and Disney. Please don't sue.**

'_These mean character thoughts or psychic communication.'_

_This indicates a shift to first person._

**As always, I strongly encourage you all to review. Feedback is the driving force that makes X-men Supreme great. The more I get the more inspiration I have to draw from. Please post your comments on the website or send me your feedback to me via email or through the official X-men Supreme website****. Thank you and enjoy!**

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Logan's Reflections (AN: Takes place shortly after issue 12)**

Every man had his weaknesses. Now matter how tough he may be in words or deeds, there were certain things in this world that made him vulnerable. For Logan, a man who could heal from pretty much anything, that list was small in some respects and overwhelming in others. One weakness he made no secret of was beer. When he wasn't training, teaching combat classes, or going on missions with the X-men he usually had a beer in his hand. His alcohol consumption was already the butt of many jokes. Were he a man of lesser healing, he probably would have been labeled a raging alcoholic. Lucky for him, his liver was as resilient as the rest of his body. He needed it to be that way. For the kind of problems he dealt with, alcohol wasn't just an escape. It was a way to tame the raging animal within.

It was late in the afternoon and Logan was working on his fifth beer. He was sitting in the backyard on the deck casually swirling his drink. Class had finished for the day and so had training. Some of the team was unwinding with a game of pool volleyball. The teams were Jeannie and Warren versus Rogue and Bobby. It looked to be pretty competitive. Jean and Rogue still weren't getting along so naturally they were playing a little harder, but it looked like they were having fun. They were still nowhere near the kind of rivalry he had going on with Summers. Had they been in the middle of a game there would have been a lot more yelling and a lot more swearing.

As they played, Logan watched and admired the view. Jean Grey in a bikini was always a sight to behold. She wasn't afraid to flaunt what she had, sporting a nice two-piece swimsuit that showed off her curves in all the right ways. From time to time she would turn and smile at him, showing that she noticed his admiring glares. She would even shoot him a few affectionate thoughts with her telepathy. Combined with the beer, it was the best buzz a guy could ask for.

_A cold bear and the sexy gazes of a beautiful woman in a bikini…either I'm dreaming or way more drunk than I thought. Every day feels like a dream at some point. It still annoys the hell out of me. A guy like me has a life like this after all the shit I've done. Either the universe has a blind spot or I'm just inanely lucky._

_Hard to believe I've come this far. Hard to believe how not so long ago I was the kind of nameless thug who only showed his face in the darkest hell holes with the worst assholes this planet can shit out. It's a fucking miracle I ain't ended up face down in a ditch with every part of my body except my adamantium bones burned off. A guy like me shouldn't be alive. A guy like me doesn't deserve the kind of breaks I've got. For whatever reason, be it divine intervention or some other karma shit I ain't smart enough to understand, I got another chance at making my life worth a damn. So far, I ain't screwed it up and I actually made a few friends who don't want to kill me for once._

_It may seem pretty damn petty. Hell, everybody who ain't a former meat puppet takes it for granted. But having a life that's worth waking up for is a hell of a luxury. Some in the X-men (mostly Cyke) think I take it for granted. Ain't nothing further from the truth. How could I when I still have nightmares about what those pricks at Weapon X did to me? It's impossible to understand without going through it first hand. Being bound and gagged in some bio tank…all these wires going into you…feeling as though every fiber on every level is being ripped to shreds and reshaped into a freakin' monster ain't just grounds for a good horror flick. It fucks you up in a way no words can ever describe._

_Call it melodramatic. Call it bitterness or anger or whatever else sounds halfway decent. It doesn't do it justice. Even Jeannie and the Prof can't understand what it's like to have only shadows for memories. My whole life, however good or bad it may have been, is gone. I didn't just lose it either. It was taken from me. Those same assholes who turned me into a monster took from me any sense of who I am and who I was. Maybe I was a monster before I lost my memories. Maybe I was a saint. Whatever the case, I don't know anymore and that's torture worse than a 1000 rounds of adamantium bonding._

_It's hard to put into perspective for anyone who ain't already half-crazy. The best way I could ever describe it to Chuck or Jeannie was relating it blacking out on booze. At one point you drink so much shit your mind stops forming memories and you wake up without any clue as to how you got there, what you did, or why you did it. Add the hangover to the mix and it's a damn good hint at what it's like. Except stretch it out over a lifetime and replace that hangover with a raging monster. Even the worst alcohol binge can't come close to the kind of mind fuck Weapon X pulled on me. At least with booze you can still have some vague memories of what went down. For me, those memories ain't exactly memories. They're more like shadows cloaked in nightmares, all of which have one thing in common…rage._

_It's probably my most defining trait. I'm an angry son-of-a-bitch. Who wouldn't be after having their mind thrown into a blender and reshaped into something entirely fucked up? In all the nightmares and bad memories I have, rage is always at the center of it. Chuck says it's because memories are tied to strong emotions and anger sure seems to be my emotion of choice. I felt it in the memories before Weapon X. I felt it in the memories after Weapon X. I felt it in the memories Weapon X erased. I still feel it every time I think back on the life I don't even know I've lived. Jeannie thinks that's' part of what drives my berserker rage. I wouldn't be surprised if she was right._

_The crazy part is I don't really understand what this whole berserker shit is anyways. It's almost as bad as the mind fuck Weapon X did on me. Only with this, I'm aware of what's happening. I can see, smell, feel, and taste the world around me. I just don't realize what the hell I'm doing or why the hell I'm doing it. It's like being thrown in the trunk of a car while a bunch of reckless drunks jump in the front seat and start driving 100 miles an hour in the wrong lane down a highway during rush hour. It could just be all the pent up frustration I'm carrying from not knowing who I am or where the hell I came from. _

_Sometimes I have nightmares about Weapon X doing this 'conditioning' shit that's supposed to put me in the perfect killing mindset. It involves me wearing this weird helmet with wires going out of it while I walk through this ridiculously cold snowstorm. I ain't wearing much more than a set of glorified briefs with more wires running out of it and even then it ain't the cold that bothers me. It's this damn rage that seems to be directed to wherever the hell is in front of me. Then I see this angry grizzly and I go berserk. Usually that's when I wake up. Nightmare or memory, it really messes with me. _

_It used to be I would go into a berserker rage for damn near anything. I wake up feeling lousy…berserker rage. Someone gives me a look I don't like…berserker rage. My truck breaks down in the middle of the road…berserker rage times two. It's why I preferred the quiet life in Canada. I cause less a scene and I don't hurt anybody. Best I could do was make sure that if I did hurt someone, they sure as hell deserved it. I never thought in a million years I would get any kind of control over it. That all changed with the X-men._

_Now here I am, a guy who ain't nearly as fucked up as he used to be. I can actually function in the world again. I can talk to people, go out in public, and be my own man without the rage taking over. I can actually have a life again. And for once, it's a life worth living._

Logan swirled his beer a bit more before chugging the rest in a final gulp. As he did he let out a deep sigh and leaned back against the rails on the porch. His gaze remained fixed on the pool where the volleyball game was escalating. Jean and Warren were on the defensive and Rogue was getting pretty aggressive at spiking the ball. Then at one point she hit one towards the back end of the pool, forcing Jean to leap back and knock it up in the air. She just barely got it going in the right direction, but it was enough for Warren to deliver a spike of his own. This time it was successful, earning a disappointed grunt from Rogue and a cheer from Jean.

"We did it! That's game, set, and match!" said Jean as she high-fived Warren.

"Nice save back there," commented Warren.

"Nice shot!" she grinned in return.

For Rogue, however, the reaction was more akin to Logan's berserker rage. It was volatile if not comical to see unfold.

"Dang it, Bobby! You're supposed to block those shots!" Rogue barked.

"Whoa, take it easy, Rogue! It's just a game! It's not like we failed to rescue the President or something!"

"Spoken like a real loser! And you call yourself an X-man?"

Rogue was getting pretty worked up. Losing to Jean didn't sit well. At least Jean didn't gloat or anything. She was a good sport, offering Bobby a reassuring smile as she and Warren tried to calm Rogue down. She may get jealous at times with what had been going on with Rogue and Scott, but she was too sweet a girl to get vindictive. That was the kind of person she was. She had so much heart, even if she did let her passions get the better of her. Logan knew those passions all too well. As Jean's lover, he had grown quite fond of them.

_I still can't get over it. When the X-men first saved my sorry ass, my way of showing gratitude was to spit in their face and storm out. By any measure, that's being a real asshole. They should have been disgusted by me or at the very least annoyed that they went through all the trouble to save me and I didn't so much as thank them. If I had any sense of decency, I sure didn't show it. Yet somehow, someway, and against every freakin' odd in the universe Jean Grey saw what even I couldn't see. She saw a guy who was worth saving._

_Think it goes without saying that a girl like that is special. Not just any guy can be her man. A guy has to set himself apart. He has to share that passion that makes her such a damn fine woman. I don't know how worthy I am. Jeannie's pretty selective about the guys she gets with. I still don't understand how she could only have one boyfriend before me. A girl like her should have her pick of the litter. But that ain't her style. She's the kind of girl who likes to make it count. She'll feel all those crazy passions, but she won't act on them. Good thing I made the first move because she sure wasn't gonna._

_It's a memory I sure hope I never lose. That first time I kissed Jeannie, I could feel something special. I don't know what it was. To be perfectly honest I still don't know. But whatever it may be, it's worth embracing. Jeannie didn't have to kiss back. I knew she had the hots for me. She ain't very good when it comes to hiding that passion of hers even though she tries her best sometimes. I wanted to make something of it. I live in a world of what-the-hells and even if there are plenty of reasons why it shouldn't happen, I'm willing to take that chance and try anyways. I didn't know if she felt the same. She could have just pulled away, explained every reason why it was wrong for us to hook up, and I would have dropped it…eventually that is. But she didn't. She kissed back and let me into her heart. _

_It's a place any guy would kill to be. For an ugly mug like me, it's like winning the lottery and striking oil in the span of sixteen minutes. The weird thing is she's as unsure as me as to why she's so attracted to me. And it ain't just physical. Sure, it helps I have the rugged mountain main thing going. For some reason, that shit attracts women. And sure, it helps she has the perfect ass and a rack worthy of it's own zip code. But what we got is serious. It ain't some cheap fling. This girl means something to me and by whatever higher power there is in this shitty universe, I mean something to her too. _

_On paper we shouldn't work. She's a beautiful, young, outgoing woman with daddy issues and I'm a former meat puppet with huge gaps in my memory, a bad temper, and a drinking problem. Yet we make it work. We hang out, go on dates, support each other, and have great sex. Hell, I still remember that special 'healing' she did after the Weapon X debacle. How a woman with that kind of heart could be so great in bed is beyond me. She has her naughty side just like I have a softer side. I love her and she loves me back. I don't get it and I probably never will. And it all started with that first kiss._

Logan found himself smiling at such memories. His eyes stayed on Jean as she got out of the pool and started drying herself off with a towel. In the late afternoon sun she was a sight to behold. The water gleaming off her body coupled with the revealing nature of her bikini made her look like a goddess. He stared so intently that Jean picked up on it.

'_Enjoying yourself on this fine afternoon, Logan?'_

'_A beer in one hand and a beautiful woman in front of me…do I even need to say it, Jeannie?'_

'_Keep undressing me with your eyes and I may have to do something about it.'_

'_Aww don't tell me you're gonna start covering up more.'_

'_Did I say I minded? By something I meant to add special. I'll let that dirty mind of yours fill in the blanks.'_

'_You're too kind to be so damn naughty, Jeannie!'_

Jean shot him a warm smile as she dried off. It was amazing how she could be so good yet so exciting. It was one of the many traits that Logan admired about her. He found himself thinking more on how this woman had affected his life and it all started with that fateful decision he made when he first woke up at the Xavier Institute.

_It's funny, I ain't usually the kind of guy who second guesses myself. That first day here my usual boneheaded impulse was to walk away. It's a good thing Jeannie got me to think for more than three seconds because there ain't no telling what kind of bullshit I would have gotten into. I know I shocked everybody by my sudden change of heart. I also know that most everybody thinks I was just following a beautiful woman and could care less about Xavier's message. I can't say I blame them, but they're still dead wrong. _

_What Jeannie said that day still sticks with me. For all the rotten things I've done (and there have been a shit ton to say the very least), there's still a guy inside the Wolverine with a halfway decent soul. Maybe I've never noticed it, but it's always been there. Why else would I have saved her and Summers that day? Why else would I go out of my way to avoid hurting innocent people with my berserker rage? Why else would I go after Weapon X in the first place? Truth is, I never even realized I had that side of me. The more time I spend with the X-men, the more I want to hold onto it._

_I ain't gonna bullshit myself. I know damn well I got a monster inside me. Whatever screwed me up in the past and whatever crazy experiment Weapon X did to me, that monster is here to stay. I can either piss and moan about it or I can fight it. Here, I don't just fight it. I channel it to do some good in the world. Whatever sins I may or may not have committed in the past, I can make up for them by being part of something greater. _

_Chuck really wants to save the world. He really believes that mutants and humans can live in peace. It's a cause he's willing to fight for, even if it involves wearing skin tight uniforms and playing hero. It doesn't bother him that pricks like Magneto and Weapon X make it damn hard at times. He sticks to his guns and keeps fighting. For a guy who can't even walk, that's really something. I got a freakin' healing factor that could make me immortal for all I know so I got no excuse._

_Fightin' for the future ain't the same as fighting for the past, but it has its benefits. At least with the future there ain't no dark secrets that will come back to bite me. Sometimes I wonder if I even should be digging into my past. From time to time Chuck will use Cerebro to help me search for clues. We usually don't find anything. From what he probed at Weapon X, Wraith and his goons did a damn good job of erasing my life. Maybe it was for the better. It seems every time I get a glimpse of the past it's something so freakin' awful it only makes me feel like an even bigger monster. Even if it does, I still got a long ways to go to catch up to Sabretooth._

Logan's expression tensed as he thought back to his old rival. Every time he dwelled on Victor Creed he felt an unbridled rage. The anger was so intense at times, coming from both memories he had and memories he lost. Whatever darkness there was in his past, he was certain that Sabreooth was part of it. Every time they fought he had flashes of their many battles. Some were bloodier than others and they all had one thing in common…betrayal.

_Guess that's one part of my 'therapy' I ain't made much progress on. Every time Victor Creed comes up, I get so worked up I wanna run out into the street and kill the first person I see. It's almost worse than my berserker rage. Every fight we've had is angrier and bloodier than the last. For every bad memory I have, Sabretooth is part of them nine times out of ten. I hate the man more than anything. I hate him so much I wanna rip off every inch of his flesh, let him heal, and rip it off again. I know that kind of hate ain't healthy. That kind of hate doesn't come from nowhere either. There's always a source. That's where I get frustrated most._

_Sabretooth clearly remembers. He knows why he's so pissed at me. He doesn't even try to dance around it or understand it. He remembers and because of that he's got more hatred than me. That makes me wonder sometimes. If I remember too, will I end up like him? Will I become so consumed by hate and anger that the good man the X-men are trying to save will up and disappear? That's the kind of mindfuck that keeps me up at night._

_There are some days I wanna give up the chase. It would be a hell of a lot easier if I just stopped dwelling on the past and focused on the future. I got a lot going for me here. I got a new life, a new purpose, a job, a place at a mansion, and a beautiful girlfriend who's gotta thing for black lingerie. There's a chance that remembering my past could destroy all of it. There's also a chance a meteor could come crashing to earth, hit me square in the nuts, and render me useless to girls like Jeannie forever. It's one big raging battle and it ain't gonna end so long as I'm breathing._

_So that leaves me with one hell of a problem. The past and the present are always gonna be kicking my ass. I can't escape it. I can't up and quit. Best I can do is struggle with some twisted balancing act. I try and build my future with one hand while fighting off the past with the other. Sometimes I'm gonna get thrown off. This latest shit with Weapon X was a hell of a kicker. But I got through it. I made it because for once I have more than jaded memories to fight for. _

_I have a life as Logan and not just Wolverine. I can take this power that was supposed to make me a monster and use it to put a stop to the death and bloodshed pricks like Weapon X and Magneto keep trying to cause. That's probably the best way I can cope with the past and spit in the face of everybody who tried to make me a weapon…to fight for a cause that'll put those assholes out of work._

A strange feeling of contentment fell over the former living weapon. Jeannie had since joined with the others and headed back inside. Logan lingered a bit longer, looking down at his beer bottle and then back out into the distance. The sun was starting to set and a cool breeze blew in off the lake. It was a peaceful setting for a man with a not-so-peaceful persona.

_Everybody still says I'm a loner. They're probably right. Being on the run for so long, pickin' fights wherever they need to be picked, and going on my own missions will give a guy the kind of personality that gives the middle finger to the whole world. Even if I am a loner, there's one thing I have now that I didn't have before that makes all the difference. It ain't just the cause I fight for, the friends I've made, the battles I've fought, and the hot redhead I'm currently sleeping with. It's something as simple has having a place to call home._

_Even though I don't always belong, this dump really feels like home to me. I still butt heads with Summers every time Jeannie comes up. I still annoy the hell out of everybody when I run my personal Danger Room sessions. I get in Chuck's nerves with my attitude and he gets on mine every time he gives me a morality lecture. I don't do the team any favors either when I run off on my own looking for clues to a past I may not even wanna remember. What makes the difference is that I have a place to come back to. I have a new life I can be proud of. I ain't just Wolverine, the ex meat-puppet who roams dark alleys, fights anything that moves, hates everybody who ever gave a damn, and kills without a second thought. I'm Wolverine, an X-man…a warrior for a cause._

_It's a cause that's ridiculous on so many levels. It's a cause that seems damn near impossible at times. It's a cause most anybody with an attitude would scoff at. But that doesn't matter. It could be impossible for all I care. I could spend a dozen lifetimes fighting it without a hint of progress. It's a cause I believe in. It's a cause that's worth fighting for. It's part of who I am now and I'm a better man for it. I don't know what the past or the future may bring or how hard it's gonna kick me in the ass. I just know I'd rather fight for something rather than let the past consume me._

With a wolfish grin, Logan turned away from the setting sun and headed back inside. It seemed for now that ongoing balancing act between the past and the present was stable. Battles against Magneto and Weapon X could not throw him off this new path. That was a good sign that he was doing something right and should keep at it. With this in mind he made his way towards the kitchen for the one other stable force in his life besides the X-men…a cold beer.

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**Up next: Ororo Munro**


	2. Ororo Munroe

**Supreme Reflections**  
**Ororo Munroe**

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**Ororo Munroe's Reflection (AN: Takes place shortly after issue 13)**

_Nature is paradoxical force. It's unpredictable, chaotic, and destructive. Yet at the same time it's ordered, rational, and nurturing. It's one of the few facets of life that nobody can take for granted even if they tried. One way or another, nature will impact the world and the lives of everybody on it._

_Nature for me takes on a very different meaning. Ever since my powers manifested, I've had this profound connection with nature. I feel it in a way that no words can describe. I can manipulate it in a way that seems nothing short of miraculous at times. I liken it to reaching out and grasping the untouchable. It's a feeling every mutant experiences with their powers to some degree. Whether it's power of mind, body, or environment what we do gives us the ability to interact with a world so few have access to. Mine just happens to be the elements of weather._

It was by most peoples' measure a dreary morning over the Xavier Institute. Much of the team was just starting to awaken and because of the clouds it didn't feel like it was past seven already. For whatever reason, Ororo was restless and decided to get up early. For her, this overcast was anything but dreary. Mornings like this presented her with a unique opportunity that only someone of her abilities could experience.

After splashing some cold water on her face and changing into her uniform, Ororo took off from the balcony just outside her room on a stream of air. This powerful yet gentle wind carried her up into the dense clouds. As she rose she felt the cold air and light rain wash over her, fully eradicating any sleepiness that may have lingered. Her eyes shined in gentle white brilliance, clearly indicating her manipulation of the elements around her. The clouds literally parted for her, creating a peaceful bubble-shaped void for her to enter. Soon she was completely surrounded, bathed in a soft gray light that beamed in from the rising sun.

She eventually settled into a silent hover and assumed a meditative state. A steady stream of wind kept her perfectly suspended. The rushing air flowed effortlessly around her, ruffling her majestic white hair and surrounding her with the senses of the early morning dew. It was almost as if she became part of the cloud herself. Within it her mind settled and the world around her was vastly simplified. All the conflicts, concerns, and chaos of everything below were no longer a factor. This was her way of getting away from it all. The gentle winds of the clouds had a soothing influence on her. It allowed her to be alone with her thoughts and make sense of a life that had undergone so much change.

_Life in general is akin to nature. There are times when it's like a sunny day with a gentle breeze and there times when it's like a category five hurricane destroying everything in it's path. I've certainly had my share of storms…figuratively speaking. Life with my parents was always exciting. I must have seen every country in Africa by the time I was nine. A lot of it was hostile terrain, from arid deserts to rain forests. My parents did everything they could to protect me, but nature always seems to find a way to leave it's mark._

_Lucky for me, I've always been very in tuned with nature and it isn't just because of my powers. One time when I was seven, my parents and I were touring a zoo in Cairo and being such an adventurous child, I wandered off and slipped into the lion cages. At the time I wasn't afraid. My mother later told me it caused quite a stir. Half of the park's security staff came rushing to the cage, but to their surprise I was perfectly fine. By whatever forces were acting that day, the lion grew fond of me. I remember him walking up, smelling me, and licking my face. I laughed with joy even as so many gasped in terror. It's almost funny how that affair resolved itself. Some of the trainers tried to pull me away from the creature, but he got very defensive. It was as if I was his own cub and for a time, everyone was at a loss. Eventually, my mother coaxed me into leaving. I was reluctant, but did so anyways and the lion did not stop me. Although I do sense he was sad to see me leave._

_Since that day I felt I always had nature on my side. I was in tune with the winds, the lands, and the life that it nurtured. I still feel that way, but there are times when the forces of nature strike me in a way that's every bit as devastating as the most powerful of storms._

Ororo exhaled deeply, the winds around her becoming more intense for a moment as her thoughts drifted to unpleasant places. It was often the case that the weather around her adjusted to reflect her moods. When she was sad it rained. When she was happy the sun shined. When she was angry the winds raged. It had been that way since her powers first manifested and certain memories always had a knack for conjuring a certain rush of volatile winds.

_There are a handful of times where nature went one way and I went the other. The time that will always haunt me the most is that fateful day in Morocco where the Earth itself turned against me. I can still feel the stale air of that day. I knew from the beginning that something about it felt wrong. Even if I was smart enough to make sense of it, there was no way to stop it. That fateful earthquake struck and my parents were at ground zero. My father yelled out to me. My mother yelled out to my father. I could hear them both, but I could not see them. I was trapped under a pile of rubble, helpless and powerless. I knew my parents were in pain. I could hear it in their voices. I was paralyzed by fear. I tried calling out for my parents, but they couldn't hear me. Eventually, their voices grew silent. I never got a chance to reach them. I never got a chance to say goodbye._

An ominous round of thunder echoed from the clouds. The rain, which had only been a slight drizzle to begin with, fell more steadily. As it poured over her face, it mixed with her tears. The memory of her parents was a very painful part of her life. Few events could so deeply affect a child. One day she was part of a loving family. In the span of a few minutes all that is taken away from her. It was a great turning point in her life and one that would lead her down a new path.

_It's uncanny…I'm a grown woman and that day still strikes me at 27 as hard as it did when I was 10. I'm not even sure if it was just one day. I was trapped under that rubble for so long I could have been there a full week for all I know. The whole time I was cut off and isolated from the world…isolated from the very nature I embraced. It was like being buried alive and to this day I can't stand small places. I tremble just walking into my closet with the door closing behind me. Professor Xavier diagnosed it as full on claustrophobia. It almost seems laughable that someone who can manipulate the winds would be so terrified of something so menial. In a ways it reminds me that I'm another fallible human being no matter what abilities I wield._

_I almost wish these abilities kicked in sooner. Life after my parents was a long road of sorrow. Looking back on it, I know now it could have been a lot worse. It could have been a lot better as well. A friend of my father's was nice enough to give me a home at a missionary. It was a nice place…warm beds, good food, and caring people. It was probably the best place for any child who had recently endured such tragedy. Yet I still struggled to cope. It was only when my powers manifested that I found a new sense of peace._

_I thought it was a gift from the heavens. I would run off from the missionary, conjure up winds, and create rains to wash away my sorrow. It was like magic and therapy all rolled into one. It's a shame the missionaries didn't see it as such. They were terrified. They thought I was possessed by a demon of sorts. That's why they tried to tie me to a table and perform an exorcism. It was not a pleasant experience and it may very well have turned me off Western religion entirely._

_Looking back on it I can't say I blame them for what they did. They had no idea what they were dealing with and even I couldn't explain it at the time. To me, it was just magic. They worked off the only knowledge they had and we both paid the price. I don't regret running away, but I do regret not going back to at least explain myself for what happened. The summer before I graduated college, I flew back to Africa and looked for the missionary. It has long since dissolved, replaced by a new fleet of apartment buildings. Perhaps my recent exposure as an X-man will reveal the truth to those involved. I guess I'll never know._

_All I do know is my life would have been very different had I not been forced to leave. It would certainly be a lot less complicated because I wouldn't have turned to a life of crime._

The thunder waned and the rains weakened. Yet the air around Ororo was still volatile. It grew cold and stale. Some of the rain even froze to form sleet and snow. It was another eerie reflection of her mood as she recalled a time in her life when her humanity and spirit were tested in a number of profound ways.

_I still haven't brought it up with the rest of my students. I haven't even talked about it with Hank that much. How can I? How do you tell anybody that you were once a lowly thief, walking the streets in ragged clothes picking the pockets of naïve tourists? Everybody at the institute is so understanding. It doesn't bother them that I was a thief because to them it was survival. I was young, orphaned, and had no money. If only it were that simple._

_Had I been just another pickpocket this wouldn't be such a sensitive issue. Ironically enough, it's where my thieving led me that is so difficult to discuss. The Professor knows some of the details. Nobody outside a select few knows them all. Some of the things I did went beyond pick-pocketing. Some were more…ambitious in nature. It helped that my powers gave me an edge few people in my position have. It also got me into a lot more trouble and for a time, I could have walked a very dark path._

_Sometimes I wonder what it was that kept me from going that far. Why is it that so many others give into greed and dishonesty? What did I do different? I saw plenty of other teenage girls in my position who got into crime and never broke out. Their lives were ruined. They didn't just become thieves. They became thugs, deviants, and rebels. The line between right and wrong just disappeared. There was no black and white. Everything is gray. And when everything is gray, it's hard to see anybody's true colors._

_For whatever reason, I never lost sight of that thin moral line. I stole to survive. I didn't give into the temptation of greed. It was a good thing too because if I had, I never would have given Charles Xavier a second thought the day our paths crossed. He was the one who got me out of a life of crime before I had ventured too deep. He was the one that helped me gain control of my life once more. Without him, I never would have become Storm. I would have remained Ororo Munroe, an orphaned thief with no future._

Her mood settled as a more peaceful serenity came over her. The stale air grew warm again and the light rain turned into a gentle mist. Even with a stream of wind blowing under her so she could stay airborne, the rest of her surroundings became more tranquil. Being alone with her thoughts often meant confronting unpleasant facts of her life, but in confronting them she gained perspective. It was that perspective that helped set her mind at ease during even the hardest of times.

_Coming to America was quite an experience. I don't think even Charles Xavier knew how difficult it would be when he first offered to help. I managed to cross his path when he was beginning to entertain the idea of an institute. It figures a man who cheated death would look to do something with the life he regained. I happened to be his proving ground and because of that I endured the whole trial-and-error aspect of his methods._

_The Professor's heart was in the right place, but even he admits he had no idea how to go about helping mutants like me. He started by getting me off the streets and into America. It's amazing the kind of leverage a man can exert on the US embassy when he has money and a fresh lease on life. I've still never asked him how he got me a visa and I honestly don't care to know. He's hinted at times it wasn't entirely honest. I tend to chalk it up to refining his means of helping unfortunate mutants._

_Seeing as how he is a professor and educate at heart, he believed the first step towards helping me was giving me an education. Since there was no Xavier Institute at this time, he sent me to a private school in Louisiana where I finished secondary school. From there I went to Louisiana State University near New Orleans. They happened to have an exchange student program that I qualified for so I went from thief to college student in the span of a week. If I could do it all over again, I probably would have asked Charles to help me prepare a bit more for the coming culture shock._

_New Orleans was nothing like Africa. College was nothing like the schooling I got at the missionary either. I might as well have been an alien from another planet. I didn't just struggle with class. I struggled with even the most basic tasks such as getting textbooks, standing in line at the food court, and asking for help in the middle of class. I still cringe every time I first learned the hard way that raising one's hand was obligatory before speaking._

_Then there was the city itself. I learned some decent English from my father and at the missionary, but I was not equipped for southern American twists let alone the vast Cajun aspect. The first year was a real nightmare and every time the Professor came to visit I would complain to him that this place didn't feel right and I didn't belong. Somehow, he convinced me to stick with it. I honestly don't know how he did it. For all I know he implanted telepathic thoughts of confidence to keep me from completely losing my mind. But whatever he did, it worked…although he does admit he could have handled it better._

_It's hard to hold any grudges against Charles Xavier. He did so much to help me, getting me off the streets and into college. He was going through the same learning experience as me, only he was learning the ideas and methods that would later become the tenants of the X-men. He probably learned a lot faster than I did because I spent more years in college than most regular students. There are a number of reasons for this…some personal and some menial. _

_I honestly had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. I must have changed majors three times. First I studied horticulture. Then I spent some time in culture studies. I thought that would be right up my alley, but apparently just being from another culture doesn't make you an expert in other cultures. When I decided to study teaching, it was almost completely by mistake. To this day I consider it the best mistake of my life._

Ororo found herself smiling as she shifted from her meditative state, allowing her arms and legs to stretch within the misty clouds still surrounding her. As she loosened up, the clouds parted and some morning sun shone through. It surrounded her in a gentle warmth, almost as if nature itself was embracing her. It was a feeling she never got tired of and one that took on greater meaning as she moved from impressionable youth to mature adult.

_Professor Xavier always says things happen for a reason. Perhaps my earlier struggles in Louisiana were part of that reason. Being awkward, different, and foreign didn't earn me a lot of friends. However, I never cut myself off. That simply isn't who I am. I met many colorful characters along the way. Some became friends. A select few became more than that. It may have helped that many men found me attractive. My thieving background seemed to attract the wrong kind of people as well. Ironically, it's through them that I fostered the desire to teach._

_I met so many deviants, degenerates, and thugs in New Orleans. The city has a long history of attracting secretive crime syndicates and because of my background, they reached out to me. However, I refused to walk that path again. And for those who tempted me, I urged them to get off that path as well. I didn't get through to everybody, but there were some who truly related to me. I proved to them I wasn't weak. I showed them my powers and I told them my story. To them I seemed like a goddess or something. It's a laughable notion, thinking a former thief could be a goddess of sorts, but it was that impact that made a difference. It gave me the kind of fulfillment I had not known before and I knew then and there that teaching was for me._

_Charles Xavier was certainly thrilled. By then he was already developing his institute and I had my place on the team whenever I was ready. Now that I'm here, I don't just teach. I'm part of something that makes a genuine difference in the world. It all comes back to my ties with nature. Just as the forces of nature help nurture the lands, I help nurture young mutants and the chaotic society they live in. For everything I am and everything I've ever aspired to, I couldn't imagine a more perfect fit._

The clouds around her continued to part and the rising sun further dissipated the rains. It was still a little foggy over the landscape, but around Ororo the scenery was perfect. Feeling refreshed and energized for a new day, she turned around and started descending towards the mansion. As she neared the backyard area she discovered that she wasn't the only early riser. Hank McCoy was standing just outside the back entrance with a cup of hot coffee in his hand and a smile on her face.

Upon seeing her lover, Ororo smiled back. That was another unexpected turn in her life that came along with joining the X-men. She had companionship with her team, a growing rapport with her students, a mentor in Charles Xavier, and a man she could be intimate with. It was always a pleasure seeing that admiring grin on his face. Like her, Hank McCoy had a strong connection with nature. It was a connection of a different kind, but every bit as meaningful. It was from these connections that their relationship blossomed.

_I almost feel spoiled at times. Whereas most girls who just graduated college are struggling to break into their careers, I had a job waiting for me right after I graduated. Not only that, I had a new boyfriend waiting in the wings._

_Hank McCoy is the kind of man you don't find on the streets pickpocketing strangers and stealing cars. He's the kind of man who works diligently at whatever he sets his mind to, always acting with care and concern for everyone and everything around him. When I first met him I thought he was charismatic intellectual. I swear I always had to have a dictionary on hand for some of the words he used. Since most of our exchanges were email, I never saw his appearance and didn't have a chance to be surprised at his appearance. He once told me that his brilliance often got lost in the commotion over his looks. I'm glad I didn't have to deal with that until after I got to know the man behind the fur. He was a perfect mix of primal nature and human brilliance. How could I not be attracted to him?_

_Our relationship has flourished without being rushed. We aren't pressing each other to be more serious than we have to. That may be a good and a bad thing because I've had some difficult love affairs over the years. I always found myself getting together with the kind of people who needed more nurturing than love. Hank has already had plenty of that and we need only the love aspect. There are still many secrets to my life that I haven't told him about. He fully admits he has his secrets as well that he's not ready to share. We try to be careful while not holding back. It's not easy at times, but it's worth the effort._

Ororo continued to ride the brisk streams of air down towards the mansion. She landed gracefully a few feet from Hank, lightly ruffling his fur in the process. Setting aside his coffee, he greeted her with a gentlemen-like gesture.

"I'm glad to see I'm not the only early riser," he said, "Is work making sleep too much a chore for you too?"

"Not necessarily," she shrugged, "There are just some mornings where I suddenly become a morning person. Conditions like this make it hard to resist."

"So you find a certain adjuration to the crisp morning dew and the warmth of the morning sun as well?" said Hank in an almost poetic-like manner.

"In more ways than one," Ororo smiled, "It's a great time to fly up into the clouds and relax. It's without a doubt my second most favorite way of energizing myself for the challenges ahead."

"If only everyone could enjoy such ceremonious forms of invigorating one's spirit. It seems the best us denizens can do is a strong dose of caffeine," he remarked, "But if a trip to the clouds is your second favorite, what might I ask is your first?"

"You're a smart man, Mr. McCoy. I think you can surmise the conclusion. If you need a clue, perhaps this will help."

Ororo's playful tone quickly grew intimate as she pulled Hank into a deep kiss within a romantic embrace. She didn't have his knack for articulating things in such a refined manner, but what she lacked in vocabulary she more than made up for in heart. Hank needed none of his intellectual brilliance to understand her point. It was as clear to him as the soft gusts of wind that still surrounded Ororo.

The African woman had come full circle. Just as much as she connected with nature, she connected with her more human elements. The passion between her and her lover and the many other passions that drove her throughout her life were all part of a process that was still unfolding. She had come a long way. Joining the X-men was by far the most pivotal decision she ever made. It took her off one path and sent her down another…one she planned on seeing through to the very end.

_So here I am…a former thief and orphan who now teaches up and coming mutants while playing hero on the side. My path is just one that many other mutants are just beginning to walk. I have so much to offer. I can teach them, guide them, and inspire them. All the while I continue to use the gifts I've been given to make the world a better place for humans and mutants alike._

_Wherever my endeavors may lead me, I'll keep drawing strength from the forces of nature. Time moves on, society changes, and people grow. Yet the sun always rises and the winds always blow. All life is bound by the same connection with nature. Some may say we'll always be at the mercy of nature, whether it be the chaos of the weather or the destructive potential of human nature. I don't believe that for one second. I believe our nature is a strength and not an obstacle._

_Shortly before my father died, he told me an old African proverb. It stated the sun will shine on those who stand before it shines on those who kneel under them. As an X-man and a mutant, I stand tall before the challenges that lay before me. I have no intention of letting the winds push me and every intention of letting them guide me. For the first time in my life I'm certain of my place. This is who I am. This is where I belong. I'll fight as well as nurture. It's not just in my nature. It's in my heart._

_

* * *

_**Up next: Rogue**_  
_


	3. Rogue

**Supreme Reflections**  
**Rogue**

* * *

**Rogue's Reflections (AN: This takes place after issue 16)**

_What's in a name? Why do people insist on going by a label someone else gave them? Why is there only one way to really set ourselves apart from the billions of other folks out there? They're walkin' the streets, goin' about their business and not giving two hoots about the rest of the world. So what do we gain when we throw on a high tech uniform, run out to where we're least welcome, and try to save a world that would rather ignore us? Ah used to ask mahself that question all the time. Now Ah'm wondering why more people ain't askin' it._

Marie Anna Darkholme, or Rogue as she preferred to be called now, was in one of her harsher moods. It was almost three in the afternoon and class was set to begin in ten minutes. But she was in no hurry. She was never in a hurry. Since she officially joined the X-men, everybody pretty much expected her to be late. There was rarely a reason. Sometimes she slept in, sometimes she got caught up in something more interesting, and sometimes she just didn't care. It was part of being Rogue. She was a rebel and much of her life had been spent not sticking to someone else's time tables. Even at the Xavier Institute, the only place where she felt comfortable in her own skin, was a challenge at times. At the heart of that challenge was learning to identify as someone completely opposed to the person she was raised as.

For the past half-hour, Marie had been drowning her mood in cigarettes. Even though she had cut back lately, she still found herself needing a few smoke breaks here and there to hold herself together. It used to be she smoked out of frustration. Life had given her plenty of reasons to be bitter. Even when her life took a turn for the better, old feelings died hard.

_Ah've done so much thinkin' ever since Ah joined the X-men. Time was, thinkin' was about sixth or seventh on mah list of responses. Ah know full well how dumb it is to just act without thinkin' things through. Ah've been on the wrong end of way too many shenanigans these past few years. Cuttin' class, goin' to clubs, foolin' around with exotic medicines when Ah ain't sick…heck, Ah'm the kind of gal that ought to be boasting about her arrest record by now. It's crazy how so much can change even for an unapologetic rebel._

Rogue exhaled deeply before taking one last drag of her cigarette. Once it was done she casually flicked it across the front yard and lay back on the bench she was sitting on. The sky was gray with heavy overcast and it looked like it was going to start raining at any minute. For a moment Rogue contemplated reaching for another cigarette, but decided against it. There was only so much smoking could do to settle her nerves.

_Ah've officially divided mah life into two phases. Before the X-men Ah was Anna Marie Darkholme, the problem child with an eccentric foster mother whose idea of bonding time involved teaching advanced kung-fu techniques. Ah was livin' the life of someone who had no future. Ah was angry at the whole dang world. Guess that qualifies as an overreaction of sorts because Ah really didn't start lashing out until mah mama jumped ship. But even before that, Ah knew something was seriously wrong._

_Professor Xavier once told meh we're all products of our parents in some ways whether we like it or not. He never said if that applied to adopted kids, but he doesn't really have to. Ah got the answer first hand. So much of mah childhood was spent training. Mama and Irene went out of their way to make sure Ah was the toughest, strongest kid in Mississippi. Ah don't know if every parent wants their kid to be tough, but even if they do Ah'm pretty sure Mystique overdid it. She didn't just teach meh to defend mahself. She taught meh to fight the whole world. Nobody could be trusted and everybody could be a potential enemy. That kind of mindset will scare the heck out of an eight-year-old girl and make her pretty dang paranoid in the process._

_Ah don't know if it was Mama's intention. Heck, it could've been for all Ah know. But all that trainin' had meh fighting back at a world that didn't understand meh. Problem is, Ah didn't understand it either. It ain't like I didn't try. For reasons Ah still ain't sure of, mah Mama cut meh off from the world. Ah wasn't allowed to have friends. Ah wasn't allowed to put mahself out there. Ah wasn't allowed to be normal. By the time she left meh with Irene, it was too late. There was no goin' back._

_Irene thought Ah earned a little independence. Ah bet she regrets that decision every day of her life. The woman can see the future, but even she can't predict how an unstable teenage girl is gonna thrust herself into the world. It sure didn't help mah first taste of the world was Mississippi public school. Ah might as well have run naked through a mine field. Ain't no way that was gonna be anything less than a disaster. The sad part is public school was almost as rough as mah Mama's parenting. Only this time Ah wasn't afraid to fight back. It sure got meh in trouble. Heck, the only good that came out of it was Ah met people who introduced meh to smoking, drugs, and clothes that weren't hand-picked by a blind woman._

_It was an endless cycle. People tried to control meh so Ah fought back. They tried to control meh even more so Ah fought back even harder. Ah really didn't have a chance. Everybody just assumed Ah was angry, but the truth is it wasn't like that. Anger is easy. Any fella can lash out at something they don't like. Hell, Wolverine practically makes it an art form. Mah problem was never anger. It was isolation. All mah life Ah wanted to reach out to people, but there was always something in mah way. First it was mah Mama. Then everybody else joined in. When she got out of the way, Ah couldn't find anybody who understood meh. Ah couldn't relate to anyone on damn near anything. Ah wanted to and for a time Ah was ready to give up. Then Ah entered the next phase of mah life._

_When Ah met up with the X-men, Anna Marie Darkholme took a back seat and Rogue took over. Some still don't understand why Ah go by Rogue now. That new girl, Kitty, sure can't resist running her yap about it. Everybody assumes it's mah way of flippin' the bird to the world of conformity. It's a totally rebel thing to do. You abandon the name you were given and take on one you pick for yourself. But the reason Ah'm Rogue has less to do with hatin' the world and more to do with takin' a new path in life._

Rain started falling from the clouds. Rogue felt small drops strike her face. Yet she did nothing to avoid it. She didn't even flinch when the drizzle turned into a light rain. She kept on staring at the clouds as if to fight back against the very nature that seemed to be complimenting her conflicted mood.

_Being an X-man hasn't just given meh an opportunity to make mah life worth a damn. It's given meh a new identity. Ah didn't like who Ah was as Marie. Ah didn't like what Ah was becomin' and what mah Mama was trying to turn meh into. When Ah started thinkin' of mahself as Rogue, Ah finally pulled away from that life and suddenly Ah have a lot less reasons to hate the world. Ah may be a rebel, but Ah ain't gonna be a bitter old bitch like mah Mama._

_It took something big to shake meh out of that mindset and boy did Ah get it. The day mah powers manifested Ah got a quick lesson in humanity. Suddenly, Ah had something Ah couldn't rebel against. It wasn't so much the fact that Ah'm a mutant that messed meh up. Mah mama had been preparin' meh for that a long time. It was the kind of mutant Ah was that really messed meh up. Ah didn't shape shift, teleport, or see the future. Ah drained the life outta people just by touching them. Suddenly, it wasn't just that folks didn't reach out to meh when Ah wanted. They couldn't without puttin' themselves in a world of hurt._

_It was rough, that's for sure. But in a ways it was good for meh. It put meh in a place where Ah never would have gone otherwise. It forced me to look at mahself in the mirror and stop fighting things Ah shouldn't fight. Ah had to suck it up, humble mahself, and forget a lot of what Mystique taught meh about the world. That's what ended up makin' me Rogue. Ah realized mah life was never gonna be the same. Ah would be a danger to mahself and others if Ah didn't take control. It's a good thing the X-men were there to help meh because now Ah'm in a place where Ah feel like Ah can turn that danger into something positive. Ah ain't just what Ah wanna be. Ah'm what Ah should be._

The rain fell harder, but Rogue found herself smiling. It was something she used to do so infrequently before she joined the X-men. The mere act of smiling used to be a luxury because life was just one long string of frustration. She could have ended up like her mother easily. Hell, she could have ended up like Magneto or the goons at Weapon X, devoid of hope and driven only by anger and hatred. How she managed to avoid that path seemed like a miracle. The circumstances behind it, however, were anything but.

_A few months before mah powers kicked in, Irene sat meh down and tried to lecture meh again. Ah honestly didn't hear much of what she said, but Ah remember the parts that mattered. She pointed out how Ah'm still holding back. For all the bullshit Ah put her through, it could have been a lot worse. She called mah attitude petty. She went so far as to say she knows Ah'm still a good girl at heart because Ah haven't shut everything out. Her mistake was assuming that she was one of them. She was dead wrong._

_Irene's heart was always in the right place, but like Mystique she's cold. Empathy really ain't one of her strengths because if it was, she wouldn't have underplayed all those letters Ah still kept in mah dresser. Those letters weren't from Mystque. Ah stopped gettin' those a long time ago. Those letters were from mah foster brother in Europe. Those dirty pieces of paper kept meh in line than all the parenting Mystique and Irene could ever muster. Those letters helped meh remind meh that the world ain't always what we're conditioned to accept._

_It's pretty messed up. Ah've only seen pictures of mah foster brother and he's only seen pictures of meh. For whatever crazy reason, mah mama was pretty serious about keepin' us apart. But that didn't stop us from connecting. It says something about mah family when the guy Ah ain't ever seen face-to-face understands meh better than the two people who tried to raise meh. That was mah anchor. That's what kept meh from goin' over the edge. Ah ain't heard from him in a while, but Ah managed to get one last letter to him lettin' him know Ah'm startin' a new life wit the X-men. If it wasn't for him, Ah never would have made all the right decisions that led meh here. There ain't a better place for a girl like meh…one who has the god-awful luck of having a power that has way more potential for harm than good._

Rogue's eyes drifted down to the necklace she had on her neck. It was the only real piece of jewelry she wore consistently and for good reason. This seemingly bland metal necklace was crafted by Mr. McCoy from power suppressing collars they obtained from Weapon X. With these collars, she could hold back her powers and touch others without hurting them. It allowed her to live as normal a life as a girl like her could possibly live while also putting her powers to good use on missions.

That's what gave her the most satisfaction, being able to take a power that in most every way was a source for great harm and turning it into a force for good. She couldn't have pulled this off anywhere else besides the Xavier Institute. It didn't just help her cope with her abilities, it helped her accept them. The collar also gave her a way to catch up on the life she had taken for granted.

_That really could have been the kicker. The night mah powers manifested, that could have turned meh into something way worse than Mystique or Weapon X ever could have done. It was bad enough when Ah started absorbing people, takin' on not just their memories but their identities as well. Mah brain ain't built for that kind of capacity so it got crowded real fast. For a while Ah wasn't even sure who Ah was or which identity was mine. It's a good thing the X-men showed up when they did because both Marie and Rogue may have been gone for good._

_Them saving meh was the easy part. Wrappin' mah head around this power of mine was the real challenge. It still bugs meh that Professor Xavier can describe everyone else's power with the kind of big words that you never hear in a Mississippi public school, but for whatever reason can't make sense of mah powers. He's tried to use more technical words besides 'life absorption' and whatever the hell is behind it. So far he's almost as confused as Ah am. It's scary to think that mah powers work in a way that even the best mutant experts can't describe, but since Ah ain't the fearful type Ah've been more hung up on coping with it._

_Ah know there are plenty of things folks take for granted. Ah hear it all the time. There's always someone out there who ain't as fortunate as us and somehow that's supposed to make us feel better. Ah sure don't get it and Ah find it pretty damn annoying. Now ain't nobody can throw that sad excuse at meh because Ah lost something nobody gives a second thought or a first thought for that matter. Ah lost the ability to touch another human being. Little things like holding hands, kissing, or even a simple hug was risky business because Ah could end up killing someone. You can still live your life, but it's a life where you're cut off in one of the most meaningful ways._

The rain kept pouring and Rogue's gaze remained fixated on the necklace. She casually trailed her fingers over it, feeling the cold metal of the device that was so key to her life now. It was daunting to think that she was reliant on something that looked so innocuous. Sometimes it was a crutch and sometimes it was a miracle cure. While she was grateful for what it gave her, she still had mixed feelings about it.

_It still bugs meh every day. Mah whole life is basically dependant on this little piece of glorified jewelry. Without it, Ah completely lose control. Ah get cut off from the world again. Ah sure as hell don't want that to happen, but Ah can't help but wonder…is this gonna be part of who Ah am? This whole mess with meh bein' careful around the people close to meh has kind of been a good thing. It's forced meh to reach out to people in other ways and some of those ways have worked._

_As Marie, mah main way of reaching out to people involved trying to get close without saying too much. That way Ah could skip the formalities and get to the deeper stuff. Ah see now how that put a lot of people off. It sure didn't help when mah most common reaction was to get all vindictive on people. Guess that's one lesson mah mama taught that Ah couldn't unlearn. Then mah powers manifested and Ah had to change mah methods. Ah join the X-men and now Ah have to be careful before Ah start reaching. Ah have to talk all this hard stuff out to break down barriers and actually open up to people. Even without touching, it's worked pretty damn well._

_For the first time in mah life Ah have friends who give a damn. Ah have people who will run through a brick wall (in some cases literally) to save meh. That gives meh something to fight for that mah mama could never understand. Having these friends that Ah'm so close to but can never touch fills a void Ah've been tryin' to fill for years and failed miserably at any turn. Ironically, it was all because of mah powers._

_That's part of what really messes with meh. Nobody would blame meh for hatin' mah powers, but Ah actually kind of like what they've done. They ain't just given meh a healthy shove in the right direction. They've made meh a better person. They are part of Rogue, the girl who came after Marie. They've made meh an X-man and there ain't a price you can put on that. Now that Ah got this necklace, Ah'm worried about fallin' back into old habits. Ah don't wanna go back to bein' Marie again, the strange girl who rebels against everything for all the wrong reasons. Ah wanna be Rogue, the strange girl who rebels because there's somethin' worth rebelling against. Ah got that here with the X-men and Ah wanna hang onto it. Now that Ah can control mah powers, Ah often need other forces to be pushin' me in the right direction._

In a growing daze Rogue took the necklace in her hand and let it dangle in front of her face. She was almost mesmerized by little device that had such a huge impact on her life. She was so focused on it she practically forgot about the rain falling around her. At this point she was getting pretty soaked and it seemed the rain was poised to come down much harder.

Rogue could have stayed out through the entire storm. Then a voice from just outside the front door of the mansion rang out and broke her from her daze.

"Hey Rogue! Are you okay? I don't know if you've noticed, but there's a nasty storm coming in!"

Shooting up from the bench, Rogue looked back towards the mansion to see Scott Summers standing there with a worried look on his face. His presence brought Rogue out of her daze and put a smile on her face. The concerned look of her lover was almost humorous. He was always so serious, even over menial moments like this. It showed to her just how much he cared and that was one of the many reasons there were to love this man.

"No need to call the calvary, sugah. Just takin' a little break in between classes," Rogue called out.

"In the rain?" Scott questioned, "Are you sure nothing's wrong?"

"Course Ah'm sure! You don't always have to assume the worst with meh, Scott. Hell, even if it were picture perfect day Ah bet you'd still be fussin' over how Ah'm lying around under the blistering sun," she teased.

"Even if I did, is it such a crime to be a concerned boyfriend?"

"Even if it was, you know Ah wouldn't mind if you broke it."

Her witty remarks helped set Scott's mind at ease. His demeanor relaxed as he started making his way towards her, braving the pouring rain as any fearless leader would. Rogue rose up from the bench to meet him, tucking her necklace under her shirt in the process. Already, her mood was getting better.

_Now here's a force that's really been pushing meh in all the right ways. Scott Summers is pretty much the opposite of everything Ah once was. He's calm, collected, and assertive. He thinks before he speaks and thinks even more before he acts. Moreover, he's a total boy scout. He'll stand in line, follow the rules, and do the right thing even if it makes him look like a stiff. What really makes him stand out is that he does all of this without comin' off as a self-righteous jerk. For a gal like me to have a fella like him is like a blizzard in July._

_It's one of the first things Ah did when Ah got mah ability to touch again. Ah made a move on a man who has done more to pull me back in line than anyone else. This fella put his life on the line the night mah powers went nuts. He actually let meh touch him knowin' full well he was gonna get hurt. Ah'm glad he had the stones to go through with it because that little insight into the mind Scott Summers sent him to the top of mah list for potential boyfriends._

_Ah get why Scott catches so much flack for bein' a straight-arrow. He really does come off as reserved, tough, and downright cold sometimes. But the fact is there's a lot goin' on behind those ruby shades of his. Ah have the benefit of insight. When Ah touched Scott that day, Ah felt his thoughts and memories. Ah got a small taste of what he's been through. He's a guy who lost his entire family, grew up in an orphanage, and had to fend for himself at a tender age when most boys are obsessing over video games and sneakin' Playboys. Yet he found a way to become the better man that few others in his shoes could've been. Ah don't know all the details since he does keep a lot to himself, but Ah know enough to understand and relate to him in a way no one else can._

_The others say we're a classic case of opposites attract. He's the uptight grade grubber and Ah'm the rebellious troublemaker. That kind of prejudice would make all the anti-mutant folk in the world cringe because ain't nothing further from the truth. Scott and Ah are alike in more ways than we're different. We've each had to claw our way out of a shell that's been put over us by our childhood, our powers, and plenty of other shit we ain't got the slightest control over. It's a tough path to walk alone. It's a whole lot easier and a lot more fun when you have someone by your side._

When Scott reached her, his concerned look gave way to a smile. The rain was really starting to come down now. Rogue was practically soaked and he was well on his way. Despite this, he still offered Rogue his jacket as any good boyfriend should.

"Here…might as well spare you the added discomfort of wet clothes," he said.

"A little late for that, sugah," joked Rogue, "But since Ah ain't about to start takin' gents like you for granted, Ah'll humor you."

"I appreciate that. You have more manners than you give yourself credit for."

"Ah reserve them only for the special folk in mah life. Like say…mah handsome boyfriend who's nice enough to walk with meh in the pouring rain," she said in a more serious tone as she latched onto his arm.

"Guess that makes me a lucky guy."

"It ain't got nothin' to do with luck. You earn that kind of respect. Just as you earn little treats like this…"

Rogue's little treat entailed a wet kiss on the cheek. It further widened Scott's smile. The rain started pouring even harder, yet they were in no hurry as they started making their way back to the mansion. They might as well have been on a romantic stroll on a sunny day. This strange collection of circumstances, sharing a romantic moment in the middle of a storm, seemed like a perfect summation of their relationship and how far Rogue had come.

_Ah seriously don't deserve to have a boyfriend like Scott, let alone mah very first. Ah'm the daughter of Mystique with a knack for attracting the worst kind of trouble. Yet this fella still loves meh. It's probably the biggest sign that mah life is on a better track with the X-men than it ever was with Mystique._

_We've already done our share of loving. Scott and Ah haven't wasted a moment of time. Mr. McCoy still warns me every now and then that there's a chance mah necklace will stop working and Ah won't be able to touch again. In the meantime we've made every touch count. Ah've given Scott mah heart and mah body. Yeah, we've moved a little fast, but Ah ain't ashamed in the slightest. It helps that Scott is as handsome as he is righteous. It helps even more he's dang good in bed. With him Ah get to feel everything Ah might have missed out on. Even if the day comes when mah powers cut meh off again, Ah'll still have some pretty fine memories to boot._

_A few times Ah've wondered if maybe Ah'm movin' too fast. Ah'm in good company too because the others have brought it up a number of times, especially Jean Grey. Ah still can't stop mahself from butting heads with that girl. I swear she and Scott have some strange stuff going on, but so long as his eyes stay on meh Ah can deal with it. He's worth it. That's exactly why movin' fast is the only way to go in mah mind. Ah can't worry too much about the future. It's all about the present right now. By making the time we have meaningful, we'll have everything it takes to handle whatever the future throws at us._

_In the end that's what truly makes meh Rogue. Ah ain't dwelling on the past no more. Ah ain't makin' the same mistakes and lettin' mahself drift further away from the world. Ah'm gonna turn mah powers from a curse into a blessing. Ah'm gonna use them to be the best damn X-man Ah can be. If anyone wants to get in mah way including mah own mama, then that's just one more thing for meh to rebel against._

By the time Scott and Rogue reached the mansion, they were fully drenched. Even the cover of Scott's jacket couldn't make a change of clothes necessary. But neither of them seemed to mind. For Marie Anna Darkholme, this was just another opportunity to make the most out of her new life as Rogue.

"It's official. We're soaked to the bone," said Scott as he wiped his glasses off.

"So we are," said Rogue casually, "In that case what do you say we get out of these wet clothes and into something more _comfortable_."

Doing little to hide the subtext of her tone, Rogue slithered her arms around Scott's neck and drew him into a deeper embrace.

"In the middle of the afternoon? I have an engineering test in an hour and if memory serves me right you have a class in fifteen minutes?" Scott pointed out.

"If Miss Munroe ain't gotten used to meh being late by now she never will," Rogue shrugged, "Besides, fifteen minutes is still plenty of time to warm up in our own special way."

"You're not going to let go of me until I give in, aren't you?" the X-leader surmised, not fighting Rogue's grasp.

"Ah'm an X-man, sugah. You, the Professor, and everyone here helped make meh one. And part of bein' an X-man means toughing out the bad times and savoring the good times. So let's be the best dang X-men we can be and do all the savoring we can!"

* * *

**Up next: Kitty Pryde**


	4. Kitty Pryde

**Supreme Reflections**  
**Kitty Pryde**

* * *

**Kitty Pryde's Reflections (AN: This takes place after issue 21)**

Class at the Xavier Institute was probably the most normal things ever got for the X-men. In a school where anti-mutant zealots, mutant supremacists, and shady mutant weapons programs could attack at any moment the day-to-day routine of being a normal student was probably the least stressful duty anyone had to deal with. Even for those who had been grade grubbers in regular school, it was a dramatic shift.

Kitty Pryde had been one of those students. Before her powers manifested, getting good grades was about as serious as any mission for the X-men. The mere act of getting a B-minus was demoralizing. Once she joined the X-men her priorities underwent a massive shift. Suddenly, hobbies like training to fight with her Uncle became her major focus and class itself became the hobby. She still got straight-A's as she did back in public school, but doing so didn't seem quite as vital anymore. There were far more important concerns in the scope of her everyday affairs. Being normal meant having little impact on the course of world events. Being part of the X-men changed all that. Now her life was tied to the fate of an entire group that the world hated and feared.

"Those that do not learn from history, are doomed to repeat it," she found herself reading aloud.

"Did you say something, Kitty?" said Ororo Munroe, who was sitting at the front of the room going over some lessons with Scott and Warren.

"No Miss Munroe," said Kitty distantly, "Just talking to myself."

"Isn't that a dangerous symptom of at least fifteen different mental illnesses?" joked Bobby.

"Shut it, Iceman-child."

Kitty kept her attention clear of Bobby Drake's remarks. It seemed he couldn't go one class without further cementing his status as the institute class clown. Now was certainly not a good time. They were all in the middle of a lesson in the institute classroom. Everybody was at their computer stations and Miss Munroe was giving lessons at various steps in the process. Kitty had the advantage of being slightly ahead of the others in certain areas. She finished a math test earlier and just got back from a science lesson in Mr. McCoy's lab. Now she had time to catch up on the subject that held a lot of personal weight for her…history.

She found herself skipping ahead to a lesson on World War II. The areas she focused on were those surrounding the atrocities committed by Nazis against the Jews. Pictures of the holocaust struck her on a profound level. They brought back memories and lessons imparted onto her by her family, who were among the many families affected by the holocaust.

_Stripped of all identity, hated for reasons that are completely unreasonable, and slaughtered with a cruelty so disgusting that not even the thousands of words conveyed in pictures could do it justice…that is the legacy the human race has to carry. That is extent of human bigotry. It almost makes me ashamed to call myself human, even if I am a mutated human. It seems there is never a point in history where mankind hasn't committed an act of unspeakable atrocity._

_This is why history has always been a touchy subject for me. There are times I hate it. I would rather get root canal with a rusty nail that learn about certain periods in history. I'm so much better at math, science, and all that other academic junk. That always seemed enough. Why couldn't I stick with that? Were it not for certain influences in my life, I probably would have. I also would have turned into some snide, arrogant valley girl who wouldn't be fit to stand in the same zip code of the X-men let alone join them._

_My family made a big deal of it since I was old enough to understand. Whereas some families would rather protect their kids from the past, others use it to teach lessons. I'm sort of glad my parents did because it's a big part of who I am. Our family history is not a peachy subject to say the least. In fact, we Prydes are a dying breed. It's not entirely our fault. We just had the misfortune of settling in Germany for God knows how many generations. I say only God knows at this point because pretty much any record of our family heritage was destroyed or lost. That's what happens when you have the rotten luck of being number one on Adolph Hitler's shit list._

_That's pretty much the defining moment for my family. We were among the first batch of Jews to be shipped off to the death camps. Because of that the Nazis had extra time to wipe out every record and every scrap of heritage my family ever had. I'll never know the stories my family had to tell. I'll never be able to trace my heritage back and find out all the neat stories my ancestors had to tell. It's basically lost to history, a big black hole that will never be filled. That kind of loss will eat at a family for generations. I don't know if anyone can ever recover from it._

_We lost everything. My grandparents on both my mom and my dad's side faced the brunt end of the holocaust. They told stories to my parents and what few relatives we had left about the kind of atrocities they witnessed. My dad told me a story about how Jews too weak to work were chained to fence posts and left to be eaten by hungry dogs. My mom told me stories about how my grandmother had to watch three of her sisters get raped in front of her and then get cut along their arms so that they would slowly bleed to death. As bad as they were, that was just child's play to seeing piles of dead bodies get stacked up on a daily basis and then set on fire to burn away. It wasn't enough to just kill these people. They had to be exterminated from the face of the Earth._

A hard lump formed in Kitty's throat as her eyes drifted over pictures of holocaust victims. The images of the dead bodies were especially disturbing, reminding her of those gruesome stories she learned at an age when most children were still getting over their fear of the boogy man. To this day she was still deeply affected by it. On some days she hated her parents for exposing her to this horrific period in their family history. On other days she was grateful because it offered a unique and profound perspective.

_Most girls at a young age have nightmares about monsters hiding in their closet. For me, it was Nazis. I remember once when I was six I had this horrible dream they stormed our house and attacked. They rounded up my mother, killed my father, and surrounded me while I was still cowering under my bed sheets. When I looked up at them I didn't see human beings. I saw monsters. I couldn't see any of their faces. All I could see was their cold, hate-filled eyes. I screamed at the top of my lungs as they reached for me. That's when I woke up. My father came running down the hall to see if I was okay. I must have cried for hours before I fell back asleep. It was the weakest I've ever been. Thankfully, it was also the last time I would ever that way again._

_The very next day I went on an impromptu trip with my Uncle, who had just moved to Chicago after living in Israel for most of his life. He's one of only a handful of Prydes still alive and he was the only other relative besides my parents that I saw consistently. He was also a former Israeli military commando. He was big, strong, and tough in a ways that seem superhuman to me even now as a member of a real life superhero team. My father had reservations, but somehow my Uncle convinced him that he should be the one to take me to the Holocaust Museum in Washington DC. This is where all those horrible stories my parents told me about took form and substance. Even though they were just exhibits, they still terrified me in a way that I can never escape._

_In a ways this was an even bigger turning point than my mutant powers manifesting. On this day at the tender age of six I confronted my worst fear. On this day I would be paralyzed by fear for the last time. That's because on this day my Uncle sat me down and promised to teach me how to fight. He told me that I was in a unique position. I was the first generation of Prydes from which the holocaust was not fresh in our memory. I had an innocence that the Nazis had not tainted and in order to preserve it I couldn't afford to be weak. I couldn't afford to be afraid. I had to learn how to defend that innocence and he was going to help me._

_And he did. Boy did he ever. He gave me the full extent of his commando expertise. The day we got back from DC, he took me to his house and taught me some moves in his back yard. He also showed me some of the conditioning he did. To say it seemed excessive to a six-year-old would be like saying the Grand Canyon is a pothole. My Uncle made no bones about it. Being a fighter was hard and he wasn't going to let me do it half-assed. There was none of that sissy karate or martial arts stuff that other kids learn. That's more style than substance. He wanted to train me like I was going to be a real commando. It didn't matter to him that I was so young. All that mattered was that I had the drive and desire. Growing up hearing about stories of fear, despair, and death had already hardened me. It was just a matter of taking it to the next level._

_My parents still had reservations. My mom especially didn't care to see her sweet little Kitty turn into some tough-nosed thug. But this was what I wanted. I told my parents flat out that I didn't want to be weak. I wanted to learn how to fight. I brought up all the stories they had been telling me since I was old enough to understand. My exact words were pretty harsh._

"_If those bad men from my dream ever came for me, I would rather fight than cry!"_

_That seemed to get the message across. I was not going to sit on this. I was going to learn one way or another, with or without my parents' approval. They still thought I was too young. They would rather I have as normal a childhood as any family of holocaust survivors could. But I was not normal. I was never going to be normal. The craziest part is I didn't know how NOT normal I was until much later in life. I like to think I got a head start on being different. I had no idea it would come in so handy when I crossed paths with the X-men._

Kitty's demeanor shifted as she turned the pages of her history book, focusing now on a less depressing aspects of the past. She skipped ahead to a part in her book that talked about the founding of Israel. Images of the 1948 Arab-Israeli war stood in stark contrast to the grizzly images of the holocaust. It was from this war that her family found hope. Some like her grandparents fled to America to start a new life. Others like her Uncle's side of the family went to Israel.

Kitty never cared much for the politics of the affair. What stood out for her was a people trying to emerge from the shadows of the holocaust and forge a new future. Her Uncle was part of that future. As an Israeli commando, he was part of the Sayeret. This is the most elite fighting force the country had to offer. Part of their training involved something called Krav Maga, a special brand of hand-to-hand fighting techniques designed to neutralize threats while keeping the user safe. It was the kind of training reserved for the best of the best and she had the benefit of learning this craft from the tender age of six.

_Once I set out to be a fighter, my Uncle didn't hold back. He didn't treat me as a child. He treated me as if I was going to be a real commando. That meant learning to live and breathe by Krav Maga, the fighting style reserved for top notch special forces. He did have to tone a few things down for my tender physique, but the principles didn't change._

_Krav Maga had four basic principles: counter attacking as soon as possible, targeting attacks to the body's most vulnerable points, neutralizing the opponent as quickly as possible, and maintaining an awareness of surroundings. To uphold these principles, there really are no rules. There's none of that acrobatic wizardry everybody sees in cheesy kung fu movies. It's raw, unabated fighting in it's purest form. _

_At first it was kind of intimidating. It took a while for me to get over how rough these techniques were. Whenever my Uncle would demonstrate something, I would always need a few minutes to pick my jaw up off the floor. He didn't let that become a novelty. In addition to teaching me how to fight, he taught me how to be focused and aware. That is what turned out to be my biggest strength. What I lacked in size and muscle mass, I made up for with a keen focus that impressed even my parents._

_It became part of my everyday routine. Each afternoon at around the same time I would go over to my Uncles and train. Whether it was a school day or a weekend, I would take a few hours out of my day to train. It didn't matter what was going on or how I felt. I went out and trained. One time I came down with a 101 degree fever and my mom refused to let me leave my room. I snuck out anyways, went over to my Uncle's, and trained. He didn't even know I was sick until my mom came barging in and screamed at him so loud the neighbors almost called the cops. That showed her and the rest of my family how dedicated I was. In a sense it became part of my identity. I am a fighter. It's not just what I do it's who I am. _

_Over the years it really grew on me. Besides the fighting, my Uncle put me through the kind of conditioning that keeps a commando's body in peak form. It wasn't enough to jut have the skills. I had to be in the right kind of shape to pull it off. And by the right shape that means I had more muscle tone by age twelve than most every girl in my school. The only problem was my body didn't keep up. I was always a bit peeved by my limited stature. Apparently the women in my family don't grow nearly as well as the men. It still bugs me that I'm the shortest one in the X-men, but in a ways it helps me. It forces me to fight that much harder and be that much tougher when the going gets rough._

_By the time I was a teenager I had learned as much as my Uncle could teach me. I still trained with him, but he conceded I had reached a point where the learning ended and the refining began. Now that I was a fighter it was up to me to determine how I was going to use it. How was this going to affect my life? I really didn't have a clue. My whole reasoning revolved around the premise of I'd rather have it and not need it than need it and not have it. Looking back on it I wish I had thought harder because I really didn't have much direction back then. I could fight like a commando and I got straight-A's in school, but for what? It sure didn't help that my social life was kind of a mess._

Kitty sighed and looked up from her textbook. She took a moment to gaze around the classroom, watching and scrutinizing each of her fellow X-men with a surreal sense of wonder. She was around real life heroes who put their lives on the line and fight for a world that was downright mean to them. Yet remarkably, she was completely at home with them. She fit in with the X-men. It wasn't just that she already knew how to fight. It went much further than that.

Turning back to her textbook, Kitty flipped the pages back towards the sections detailing the holocaust. As gruesome a subject it was for her, it took on a new meaning now that she was with the X-men. It was a meaning few could understand. Back home, it left her feeling isolated and alone. And this was _before_ her powers manifested.

_All that training came at a certain cost. While other kids were spending their after-school hours going to playgrounds, playing sports, or just hanging out together I was running off to be with my Uncle. That made it pretty hard to make friends. I lived in the same house all my life and I barely knew my own neighbors. How could I when I was so focused on learning from my Uncle? It's not like I'm totally anti-social. I'm not afraid to talk to people or put myself out there. I just never learned all the subtleties that go into making friends and being part of a group. I probably didn't help myself by being brutally honest to a fault._

_It's one of those quirks of mine that puts me at odds with even the X-men at time. In training with my Uncle, we had a strict no nonsense policy. There was no room for beating around the bush. You said what you meant and you meant what you said. For me, that often included saying what was on my mind before I meant to say it. That didn't go over well with other kids my age or other adults for that matter. To this day I still don't get it. It's probably why I keep rubbing people the wrong way whenever I just blurt out what's on my mind without being tactful in the slightest._

_I didn't realize how big a problem this was going to be until my first day of high school. I mark it down as one of the lowest points in my life up until I stared down a killer mutant-hating robot for the first time. I was as anxious as any freshman, but being the pig-headed fighter I was I didn't fear anything. Maybe a little fear would have done me good because in my very first class of my very first day, I spoke my mind before I realized that public school was all about keeping your mouth shut._

_By whatever fluke of horrendously bad luck, my first class was an advanced math class being taught by this teacher who had to be in her seventies at least. I found out later that she was one of the toughest and most ridged teachers in the school and because of that she really didn't take kindly to students commenting on her style. She started the day by going over a quick probability lesson to get us ready for what we would be learning the first semester. She worked out a few problems that were pretty advanced, but I noticed she was doing them the long way. She was making these charts and number graphs to show all the little details that went into solving the problem. I was already familiar with this stuff and understood that a quicker way was to work out a few equations. That's when I opened my big mouth._

_It started when she made a simple mistake in the addition and subtraction. She wasn't using a calculator so it was easy to miss. I pointed it out to her without raising my hand and while she thanked me for correcting her, she told me with this mean look in her eyes that students had to raise their hands and wait until she was finished making her point before addressing her. I countered by saying that would have just made it harder because the way she was working the problem would have been messed up and she wouldn't have gotten the right answer. I could have stopped there and spared myself any further looks, but then I had to point out that she was doing it the long way and the whole problem would have been finished by now without the mistake if she just used a few simple equations. By the time I finished my sentence, I realized I had just stepped in a proverbial mountain of shit._

_I might as well have grown a second head that told her to fuck off and drop dead. I swear this woman looked at me with the same look a serial killer gives a disgruntled ex-girlfriend. Me being the tough commando trained girl that I was, I didn't cower to her evil gaze as most other 15-year-olds would. The others in the class looked at me like I was a cow about to walk into a slaughterhouse and I might have envied the cow because for the next five minutes the woman went off on this rant about respecting authority and following her strict class guidelines. The whole time she kept staring me down and I kept staring back. When she finally asked if I understood, I said yes but not in the way she wanted. I could tell she wanted me to be afraid of her. That wasn't going to happen. I wasn't afraid of anything and that started a trend that would continue right up until I met the X-men._

_I got the whole class in trouble for that stunt. It also began my reputation as a social pariah who nobody wanted to hang out with. It's not like I didn't try. My problem if you can call it that was that I never showed any fear or concern for being this outcast. It almost became a new school sport. My classmates would try and scare me the same way that teacher tried to scare me. They always failed because my Uncle trained me to resist fear. Compared to the stories he told me and the stories of the holocaust my family never hid from me, there was little a typical Chicago high school student could do to intimate me. Some had to learn the hard way that I was not to be messed with._

_As was tradition in the annuls of public school hierarchy, the seniors were basically obligated to haze the freshmen. I don't know the logic behind it either. It's like some perverse order meant to keep the younger students in their place while the older students reap the benefits of being a few years older. Naturally, I became the top target among the seniors. These three guys who were on the track team along with these three cheerleaders who looked like they belonged in a bad rerun of the OC planned to jump me after school and tie me to a tree with duct tape. It was an act I had seen done to at least several freshmen within the first month. It was supposedly all in good fun, but that's probably because most freshmen weren't foolish enough to fight back. Me, on the other hand, I can be pretty damn foolish sometimes._

_It was a Wednesday afternoon and class just let out. I just started walking home and was minding my own business when I passed by a row of trees that lined the edge of the football field. That's when they jumped me. At least, that's when they would have jumped me if I hadn't picked up on their lousy stealth skills. The two guys jumped out first and the two cheerleaders followed closely behind. They tried tog grab me and corner me so I couldn't escape. That was probably the worst decision they could have made because my commando training kicked in before they were halfway there._

_What happened next was something right out of a parallel universe. I slipped out from the grasp of the two guys and took them both down in six seconds flat. I twisted the arm of the first guy behind his back and kneed him right at a nerve cluster around the upper hip. Before he even hit the ground I hit the second guy with a swift kick to the knee and hard fist to the neck. I swear they both cried out like they were 8-year-old girls who just saw a spider climb up their leg. At this point I wasn't thinking. I was just reacting. The two cheerleaders who were coming up behind the two guys were so shocked they froze right in place. I saw them both with duct tape in their hands so I figured they were going to attack as well. That meant I had to take them down and this is where it got a little out of hand._

_When I went for the first girl, she fell flat on her butt before I even got there. I still managed to grab her by the shoulder and hit her right in the upper sternum, which essentially knocked the wind out of her and left her heaving like she was about to throw up. The other one threw the roll of tape at me and tried to run. She made it about two steps before I pulled her into a grapple from behind and tripped her so she fell flat on her face. From there, I dug my knee into her lower back and held her on the ground as if she had just tossed a hand grenade at a bus full of handicapped children. She cried out louder than the other three and called me so many names I think she got fined by the FCC. While this was going on, the last two were standing about twenty feet away from where they were going to tie me to the tree. They had a camera ready and everything. When I looked up and saw them it looked as though they had just seen Bigfoot or something. I shot them one angry look and they dropped everything and ran. I'll never forget their fleeting words._

"_You're a freak, Pryde! A FREAK!"_

Kitty shifted somewhat as those harsh words echoed in her mind. She looked up from her textbook and out into space. It was amazing how one moment in time could have so much meaning in so many ways. It was almost prophetic in a sense. To this day she was still called a freak, but for an entirely different set of reasons. She almost broke out into laughter over how crazy it was.

A smile crept across her face as she gazed back towards her fellow X-men. They were all still caught up in their class work. From a completely ignorant perspective, they looked like normal students going about normal lives. Yet so much of who they were and what they did was anything but normal. It was a perfect summation of everything that made her life so crazy. It also reminded her why she fit in so well at the Xavier Institute as opposed to her old life back in Chicago.

_It was a hell of a way to start off my high school career. That little incident got me in trouble with my parents, the principle, the parents of those four kids, and even the police. I was lucky the parents didn't press charges. I tried to be gentle and leave no lasting marks. That's not as easy as it sounds when the vast majority of Krav Maga was built around being as deadly as possible. But since they were the ones that hazed me, it couldn't qualify as assault. And since it took place just outside of school grounds, it wasn't grounds for suspension. The parents still threatened a lawsuit, but it eventually fell through. Through the whole ordeal I didn't regret what I did for a second. That essentially sealed my high school fate._

_Word travels fast when a petite freshmen girl beats up four oversized seniors with her bear hands. I quickly earned a reputation as someone not to be messed with. It earned me plenty of respect, but even with respect that didn't earn me many friends. I basically intimidated the whole school. I admit it was a reputation I kind of relished for a while. I tried not to grow too big an ego. My Uncle was pretty strict when it came to getting overconfident, but I did sort of embrace being a tough girl. I was the kind of fighter that nobody expected to be a fighter. _

_I still came across a few bullies here and there. I always went out of my way to show them that they couldn't beat up on people just for the hell of it. Bullies reminded me too much of the Nazis my parents told me about. It was only natural that I take it upon myself to stand up to them. It may have earned me bonus points from the victims, but it still left me as the social equivalent of a desert island. Other girls were afraid of being around me when a fight broke out. The guys were too intimated to ask me out. I wasn't a total outcast, but I was on my own little island. I didn't fit in. I didn't belong._

_That's when a beautiful thing called irony kicked in. It all happened in the span of a single day. I found out that I was a mutant. So being called a freak and being seen as too different for what passes as normal these days took on a new meaning. If that weren't enough, being a mutant introduced me to a new world in which I did fit in. Being a mutant wasn't enough. Being a mutant and a fighter was the perfect combination that made me an X-man._

Still smiling, Kitty looked back down at her text book and thumbed through a few pages. She soon located as section in the World War II chapter that covered the fall of Nazi Germany and the liberation of the concentration camps. Pictures of Allied soldiers freeing captive holocaust victims were a refreshing turn. The subject of the holocaust was full of so much gloom and despair, but since she joined the X-men she gained new appreciation for what brought it to an end.

In a sense the X-men were like those Allied soldiers. The mutants of the world were in a position not at all unlike what the Jews dealt with during the 1930s. Hatred was on the rise. Fear trumped humanity and hatred trumped compassion. That made the battles the X-men fought all the more important.

_So here I am, Kitty Pryde of the X-men. My codename is Shadowcat. I can walk through walls, disrupt electronics, and fight like a commando against the kind of people who would bring a second holocaust. I couldn't have found a more befitting role if I had been given three wishes from a genie._

_I already got a taste of what I'm in for. Not long after I joined, Magneto did his little uprising on Genosha and Cameron Hodge pulled his stunt with the sentinels. My first mission involved stopping both of these psychos before World War III: The Mutant Edition broke out. I got to free a bunch of prisoners held captive on Genosha. I got to destroy giant robots meant to inflict all out war on mutant-kind. I got to fight the kind of fight that really meant something. It wasn't just for mutants. It was for an entire world that was on the brink of repeating a very dark period in history._

_That's why I keep coming back to that old quote. Those who don't learn from history are doomed to repeat it. I heard enough holocaust stories from my family to want to avoid another one at all costs. I'll fight with every fiber of my being to ensure that the mutant race doesn't have to suffer their own holocaust. Professor Xavier believes we have to be willing to fight against the forces of hatred in order to ensure peace. It's a belief I share completely._

_At the same time I can't help but feel a little sympathy for guys like Magneto. The man may be a psycho, but I don't blame him for hating the human race. The Professor told me that he actually had to live through the horrors of the holocaust. He didn't just hear stories about it. He endured it, watching his own family die right in front of him. That's the kind of experience that would scar a man for life. _

_I remember seeing a lot of hatred in his eyes during our battle on Genosha. What bothers me is that he can't seem to look beyond the hatred. His response to the horrors of the holocaust is to promote one of his own, this time turning the oppressors into the victims as if somehow that would make the pain of such an experience go away. It's vengeance in it's purest form. I have no doubt he sees himself as a liberator for our kind, but he's ignoring the lessons of history. Men like Magneto, no matter how tragic their lives may be, will always wind up on the wrong side of it. As Professor Xavier once said, you can't fight tyranny with more tyranny._

Kitty's smile faded as she continued reading over the lessons of history in her textbook. There was a lot to be learned from events like the holocaust. As part of a family that carried this grim burden and an X-man looking to avoid another, she found it daunting at times.

As she read through more pages of her book, she saw other events like the Civil Rights movement, the Gay Rights movement, and the explosive growth of the mutant population that had sewn the seeds for it's own movement. There seemed to be a cycle of struggle for those seeking peace and equality. It was a struggle that didn't seem to end. So many complications emerged along the way. The X-men were already facing plenty and there was little doubt they would face more. It was overwhelming to contemplate just how far they had to go. Men like Magneto seemed to accept it as impossible. Kitty Pryde, however, was a bit more hopeful.

_Sometimes I worry that the X-men may not succeed. We may carry ourselves as heroes, but in the real world the heroes don't always win. It's very likely that we could slip up along the ways and make life for mutants all the more difficult. There's so much uncertainty right now with Genosha, the sentinels, and the growing mutant population that it's almost impossible to see any light at the end of the tunnel._

_So how does a girl like me keep fighting? How does anybody keep fighting when the path in front of them seems practically endless? Whenever my mind drifts to these dark places I remind myself of a story my Uncle told me that was passed down from my grandfather. It's a story about a group of American marines in World War I during the Battle of Belleau Wood. It was a brutal battle, one in which the marines were expected to hold their ground against advancing German forces. For four days they were bombarded and blasted, taking heavy casualties and wearing down to the point of exhaustion. They managed to stop the attack, but that wasn't enough. The plan was to fight back despite their weakened state. For the marines it seemed beyond their limits. Their every inclination was not to fight in their current state. Then they were given some powerful words of inspiration._

"_When it's too tough for them…it's just right for us!"_

_Eventually, the marines pushed the Germans completely out of Belleau Wood. They were victorious. Over a thousand marines died in the battle, but they didn't die because it was too tough for them. They died fighting for a cause. Those words held true on that battle and they hold true today._

_The way I see it the X-men are on one hell of an uphill battle. Humans hate us and they're going to keep hating us. Mutants are going to keep growing and cause more tension along the way. Guys like Magneto are going to pick fights and start wars. For everyone else the idea of fighting for peace and understanding will just seem too tough. But for the X-men, it'll be just right._

_That's how I know the X-men are on the right side of history. We're still willing to fight the tough fight. We're still willing to stand up where others succumb to despair. All my life I've heard stories about the tragedies of human cruelty and hatred. Now I have a chance to ensure that the next generation won't have to tell those same sad stories. I may not be the biggest, the strongest, or even the smartest mutant in the world. But I'm still a fighter who can fight her way through anything both literally and figuratively. _

_There may still be many out there who do not learn from history and are essentially doomed to repeat it. But I won't be one of them. So long as I'm an X-man, I move forward into the future while never forgetting the past._

_

* * *

_**Up next: Magneto**_  
_


	5. Magneto

**Supreme Reflections**  
**Magneto**

* * *

**Magneto's Reflections (AN: Takes place shortly after issue 21)**

_Is it really possible for a man to be completely imprisoned? Even if he isn't strong, can his spirit ever be snuffed out? How low can one man fall before he is so lost that he is rendered completely impotent? It would be a useful measure for anyone enduring the loss of their freedom. To me, it's useless because I'm no ordinary man. I'm better than that. I'm stronger and not just by sheer will either. My strength is a cold, hard fact forged in the fires of evolution. As such, no human prison will ever contain me._

Erik Lensherr's world had shrunk mightily in a short amount of time. Where he once had the ability to soar over the lands like a god among men and manipulate his surroundings with power that made lesser beings cower, he was no restricted to a small room no bigger than a garage. There were no windows or doors or anything of the sort. Every fixture was made of glass and plastic. Illuminating the area was bland array of fluorescent lights. Except there wasn't much to illuminate. In this chamber there was nothing besides a table, a bed, and a case of books. There were no electronics of any kind. That was somewhat redundant because there was also a dampening field rendering the master of magnetism powerless.

It was a special room constructed specifically to contain him. His old friend, Charles Xavier, actually helped construct it. Forged in the bowls of Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, he was locked in the deepest recesses of the world's most notorious prison. To the outside world he was a terrorist guilty of war crimes. To him these crimes were a joke. He led an uprising against a tyrannical system that was corrupted by race too ignorant to understand it's place in the evolutionary ladder. He confronted a madman who committed heinous atrocities against his brethren. If those were crimes to these people he considered it a badge of honor.

_The efforts of these simians is laughable. Do they really think that throwing me in a plastic prison cell will stop the course of evolution? These primates are doomed to extinction and deep down they all know it. They see mutants like me and they see their replacements for the dominant species of this world. They know it's going to happen. This is how nature works. As the world changes, life adapts and those that fail to do so are destined for extinction. The human race has had a good run, but they've been going downhill for far too long. It's time for a new species to take over. They can do everything they want to delay it. They'll never change their fate._

_I've seen what happens to humans who descend into this evolutionary abyss. They don't just fail to evolve. They actually devolve, becoming more ignorant and resentful of anybody who they can lump together as a scapegoat. The act of one group oppressing another is among the oldest and most outdated forms of human barbarism. The saddest part is that some are foolish enough to believe that civilization has helped them progress. My life is living proof that such a notion is utterly false._

_I was born into the darkest corners of humanity's savage nature. My family was Jewish and by whatever cruel manifestation of misfortune, I grew up in central Europe during one of the worst periods in anti-Semitism. This was a time when the Nazi party was on the rise and Jews were being blamed for everything bad that was happening in the world. If there was an economic crises, a natural disaster, or an epidemic the cause was always the same. It was because of the Jews._

_Because of this savage bigotry, the only place my family could live in any semblance of peace was a decaying Ghetto in Poland. At the time most of the Jews felt the only means of dealing with this growing tide of hatred was to flee. Every day it seemed someone would disappear for America or some other far-away locale. There was pressure on my father to do the same because he actually saved money and procured wealth through years of dedicated labor. _

_But running wasn't in his repertoire. My father was a fighter. He fought in World War I and was dishonorably discharged for fighting more than just the enemy. He was not one to stand idly by while others tried to take from him that which was rightfully his. He taught me and my older sister to be the same. He believed in tough love, teaching us to fight back when we were denied what was rightfully ours. I always fought hardest and he singled me out as being especially strong. He was stern with one hand and loving with another, teaching me lessons in strength and dignity. All the while he never let anyone hold him back. He stood his ground and fought back, even when an entire army came to confront him._

_Eventually, he had to face such an army…the Nazi army no less. I was so young, but I'll never forget the day the troops reached our ghetto. The sheer savagery of these men can never be understated. It was like they were exterminators and we were the rats. They treated men, women, and children with the same care they would a fly. I saw them butcher, rape, and torture. I saw them rip the unborn babies from the wombs of pregnant women and with a smile no less. Everyone in my family was petrified, but not my father. Even in face of such horrors, he grit his teeth and fought back. He didn't have a gun because nobody let Jews own guns back then. So he used a knife and a wooden stick to kill three heavily armed Nazi soldiers. He would have killed plenty more had they not gotten in a lucky shot that mortally wounded him._

_I can still see the look on my father's face when he entered his final moments. A Nazi soldier callously slit his throat while gutting him with a bayoneted rifle. It was a horrible way to die, but my father's look of defiance never waned. He even managed to spit blood in their face with his final breath. For every boy unfortunate enough to see their father die, this was the way you want to see him go…fighting till the bitter end. I did not shed tears. I tried to fight back myself, but being so young and weak those sick Nazis just hit me over the head with the butt of their guns. I wasn't worth killing for them…not yet._

_Before they got to punishing me, they thought it would be fitting if they had their way with the rest of my family. They made me watch in my woozy state as they raped my mother and my older sister. They were slow and methodical, making sure to torture them horribly before they finally ended their lives. I could remember every gruesome detail, but it would be useless to dwell on because even through these horrors I did not falter. My father raised me to be stronger than that. I only lowered my head in sorrow when the horrors had ended. My family was dead and there was nothing I could do about it._

_They could have killed me for good measure, but they didn't. They felt I hadn't suffered enough so they sent me away to a concentration camp. I'm sure if those soldiers were alive today, they would regret not killing me. They thought sending a boy to grow up in a concentration camp would break me. They thought it would crush my spirits and reduce me to a meek, worthless Jew. They were dead wrong._

_The horrors of a Nazi concentration camp are well documented by history, but few can ever understand what it was like to grow up in them. The horrors that would scar most people for life were a daily occurrence. I saw enough rape, torture, and death to fill a hundred lifetimes. In seeing these horrors, my only purpose at that point was to survive. I had to be strong. At a young age I came to grasp the value of strength. I learned each and every day how only the strong survived and how the weak withered. I also saw how the Nazis themselves, as barbaric as they may have been, were still every bit as weak as the people they were oppressing. It sent a message that I received loud and clear. I was not going to be weak. I would be aided in this endeavor by the forces of evolution._

_The day the concentration camp was liberated, I proved my strength. Everyone else was terrified. They all thought that the presence of the allies would prompt the Nazis to move ahead with their so-called Final Solution. They were going to exterminate us before we had a chance to be liberated. Time and history was simply not on their side. The Allies came and the Nazis cowardly tried to save their own skins. Some of them used young boys like me as human shields. At one point I was staring down the guns of the Nazis and the guns of the Allies. It would have been an ironically cruel way to go. That's when I got my first state of my evolutionary destiny._

_I let out what had to be the loudest cry of defiance that any Jewish boy had ever uttered. In a moment frozen in time, I felt this power well up inside me and with it I was able to literally reach out and tap forces I didn't even understand. I would later find out that those forces were that of magnetism. Such a force was capable of great power and I was able to wield it as if it were another limb. Those ignorant Nazis didn't know what hit them. It must have seemed like God himself was turning against him. Their weapons were forcibly ripped from their hands and twisted into scrap metal. Then the barb wire from the gates was torn asunder and in an act of swift mercy, they were maimed where they stood. _

_I don't think anybody understood what they saw. In the chaos of the moment, they probably chalked it up to delirium. Only I knew what had happened. While I was confused at the time, I was also empowered. On that day when I walked out of that Nazi concentration camp, Erik Lensherr died and Magneto was born._

The master of magnetism gazed without pity or fear towards the cameras watching his every move. Since his chambers were sealed off, there were no guards either. He was completely cut off. The only time he ever saw another human being was when they brought him his food. That didn't bother him in the slightest. That only meant he didn't have to contend with their pestilent presence.

The only difficulty he encountered was how to pass the time. No windows and no clocks meant that he had very little with which to occupy himself. Besides books, he had to make his own entertainment. One of the few amenities they did give him was a chess board made of glass. He always had it set at the lone table that was next to his bed. For hours on end he would play games against himself, putting together complex strategies and moves. It didn't just keep him sane. It kept his mind sharp.

For the past two days he had been in the midst of an epic game. Over half the pieces from each side were gone and every move was critical. He had been staring at the board for hours, contemplating what he would do next. He spent all this time setting up his pieces so that he would be in prime position to win. It was very much akin to how his life after the concentration camp unfolded.

_Armed with a new power and purpose, I set out to put myself in a position for greatness. The greatest challenge for me was the limitations of the world around me. There was so much weakness both amongst my fellow Jews and amongst the Nazis and Allies. If I was to gain my strength I could not do so in such a world. I needed a place that was every bit as unique as I was. I found it in small little region of the Balkans known as Wundagore._

_The wonders of this region are too great for words. What I experienced there simply defies explanation. But it was there where I learned the full extent of my power and the coming tide that I now call homo superior. I've yet to share the details of what happened in Wundagore with even my most trusted associates. I doubt I ever will. I want that time of my life to be my little secret. That way what happened after I left remains more pertinent._

_I was in my early twenties when I returned to the real world. I saw that little had changed with human affairs. It was pitiful, yet unsurprising. If I was to grow, I needed to work my way up. Thankfully, my family's wealth was kept safe over the years in a Swiss bank account and I was able to use those funds to rebuild my life. I entered Oxford and demonstrated my genius IQ to hoards of surprised primates who were often intimidated by my presence. They didn't know I was a mutant and I wanted to keep it that way…at least for the time being._

_I immersed myself in the study of biology, genetics, history, and society. For years I toiled, making a prominent name for myself in all fields. I became an early authority on mutation. At the time the mutant population was still isolated and just beginning to emerge. Many other issues such as the Cold War and social uprisings throughout the Western world squelched any chance of mutants becoming their own force. I knew it would not stay that way so my plan was to make sure I had all the knowledge and skills for when the time came._

_Eventually, my tenure at Oxford ended when the school simply failed to provide me with any more meaningful knowledge. I was offered a high level teaching position at the school, one that could have led me to a stable and comfortable life for the rest of my days. But I didn't want that. My destiny as a mutant was taking me elsewhere. I just didn't know which direction I should go. So for the next few decades, I tried to go in every direction._

_It is here where I also have many secrets. My travels were extensive and I'm not just talking about exotic locations far from any civilization. These travels had a purpose. I wanted to learn about war and conflict. I wanted to get to the very heart of what drove the atrocities that lead to events like the holocaust. I visited war zones in South America, the Middle East, and Southeast Asia. There I watched the same story unfold, just with different characters. Groups of humans were merely oppressing other groups of humans for reasons that were utterly arbitrary. Sometimes it was their religion, sometimes it was their ethnicity, and sometimes it was their political affiliation. It was like watching a bad movie again and again._

_I yearned for more guidance. I ended up traveling to some more exotic places…some of which weren't technically on any map per se. It's only in these unique places that I dare not even think about where I finally started making sense of what I was seeing. Human beings, like all life, are at the mercy of their evolution. As a social species, humans create groups to survive and when other groups try to do the same then there are only two options: cooperation or confrontation. I wasn't sure how that would apply for me as a mutant, but then I was reminded that mutants still evolved from humans. Some of those tendencies were sure to carry over. The conflict in me at this time was what drove these two forces. I thought I understood, but I wasn't sure what to do with it._

_This became a very conflicted part of my life. It was during this time I started struggling with the idea that if mutants were still human in their nature, then how would we escape these flaws? And if confrontation between these two groups was inevitable, then what path would they choose? Would it be confrontation or cooperation?_

The master of magnetism finally made a move on the chess board. It was a simple move that didn't require him to take any pieces from the other side. He just moved his rook two squares to the left. It seemed so simple for a move he had been contemplating for hours, but it was those simple details that always fascinated him. It was only from these small details that the big picture could emerge.

Such was the case of his determination to answer the questions that arose from his travels. There was a time in his life when he could have walked a very different path. Had he gone that route he may not be in this confined cell. He may be somewhere else doing something entirely different with his powers. It was interesting to contemplate even if it was meaningless. As far as Magneto was concerned, what led him here began with a chance meeting between him and a very important man.

_When my travels finally ended, the world was going through yet another change. The social upheavals had sputtered a bit and the mutant population was on the rise. Media coverage was starting to grow and people all over were taking notice. One whose voice stood out among all others was an up and coming graduate student at Princeton named Charles Xavier._

_While I was traveling, Charles picked up my mantel as an authority on mutation and did so with uncanny dedication. It seemed inevitable that our paths would cross and I'm glad they did. Charles was probably the first real friend I had in decades. I could talk to him for hours about the nature of mutation and how it has impacted history both in terms of evolution and civilization. It helped that he was a mutant as well. He could relate to me as an equal, something I had not experienced in a long time. It was…comforting. It gave me a new perspective on the questions I struggled with._

_For a time I helped Charles with his research. Our work would later become the backbone for humanity's admittedly rudimentary understanding of mutants. This would be the bedrock from which the modern mutant conflict would emerge, but Charles and I did not thrust ourselves into it at first. We were still men of science trying to make sense of the world. I felt that if I brought Charles with me on my travels, perhaps I could pick up on the details I had missed._

_Charles, to his credit, was very open-minded to learning a new perspective. He had lived too comfortable a life in his upper-class upbringing and needed to take in the harsher side of life. Once again, I traveled. This time I had a companion. The years seemed to go by much faster because we were always busy, taking in conflicts from emerging war zones in places like Israel, Afghanistan, and Eastern Europe. While neither of us realized it at the time, the seeds of our eventual divide were sewn._

_I noticed when we saw the atrocities of war, Charles wouldn't react nearly as strongly as I did. I always pointed these acts out as a manifestation of humanity's natural barbarism. Charles simply didn't see it that way. He interpreted these grizzly affairs as a tragedy, one that resulted from fear and a lack of understanding. He would always talk more about the potential for peace rather than note the futility of human conflict. He always saw hope in every situation. We got into a few debates at times, but it was never of the heated kind. We simply respected each other too much and I had other reasons to be reasonable._

_It was during this period of travel that something remarkable happened…something I never anticipated from the moment I began my journey. I fell in love. It may be hard for these foolish humans to picture, but it's true. I do have the ability to love and do so with such devotion that no one would dare question my capacity for heart. But not just any woman could capture my heart. She had to be special and Magda Maximoff certainly fit into that category._

_Magda was not a mutant, but she wasn't a mere human either. She was a somewhat obscure mystic who traveled throughout Eastern Europe, granting charms, casting spells, and telling fortunes to those in need of hope. She was quite popular among those afflicted by the horrors of war. Her mystical talents could undo some of the physical scars while soothing the mental scars. When our paths crossed, it was like she reached those festering wounds I had been harboring since I was a child. She saw in me a man who was his own mystical manifestation. I enchanted her the same way she enchanted me. _

_For a time she gave me hope that the destiny of the mutant race would not be forged in conflict alone. There was room for connection. There was room for love. She quickly joined me and Charles on our ventures and our love only grew. On a trip to Northern Ireland, I took her as my bride in a small little ceremony we held privately with Charles being our chief witness. It seemed like true happiness was finally coming my way. The answers I had been seeking were tantalizingly close. My world only got brighter when I learned that Magda was pregnant. Then came the fateful trip that destroyed it all._

The hardened demeanor of Erik Lensherr faltered. He clenched his fists while his face tensed with unbridled anger and pain. Were it not for the power dampening fields, every scrap of metal within a mile would have shaken. Yet that was only a fraction of his rage.

Few could ever understand what it was like to have everything they held dear shattered in the blink of an eye. He heard so many stories about loss and hardship. Some were legitimately horrible while others were a joke. There were people in this world who made epic tragedies out of the loss of a pet. This was an insult to true loss…the kind that utterly destroyed any promise of peace. More than any other event, such loss proved that humanity was beyond redemption.

_It happened in the Balkans of all places. It was a time of escalating civil war between rival ethnic clans. Charles and I were there to survey the displaced refugees. We were also commissioned to do an assessment of other at-risk areas for further conflict. It was a pretty brutal campaign. The two factions were well-armed and embittered by centuries of hostilities. There was no logic behind such a conflict. It was like so many others I had seen. It wasn't until I finally paid the true price of such a conflict that the answers I had been looking for finally struck me._

_It all happened early in the day when Charles, Magda, and I were in what we thought was a safe town. We were making preparations to go back into the war zone. I was talking to Magda about flying back to Switzerland to be with her sister, Marya Maximoff. The twins were expected to arrive at any day and I didn't want her to be in harms way when the time came. Before I could even voice those concerns, that harm found us._

_Out of nowhere the whole area was shelled by a well-armed squad of ethnic militia. They then came storming into the village, yelling in a fit of rage that reminded me all too much of the Nazi invasion of my former home. It all happened so fast. Shot, killed, and maimed everyone in their path. The cries of the innocent still haunt my memories to this day, but none rang louder than that of my terrified wife._

_At first I urged Charles to use his powers with mine so we can fight back this onslaught. For whatever reason, he seemed conflicted. This was the pre-hero Charles and combat simply did not resonate with him. That hesitation proved fatal though because a shell blew up right next to the small house we were staying in. I don't remember a whole lot of what happened after that. I only remember being knocked to the ground and rendered helpless while soldiers stormed the area. As soon as they saw Magda, they did not hesitate the same way Charles had. They took one look at her and started beating her relentlessly. Since she was pregnant, shooting her seemed to be too quick. They needed to draw it out…to make her suffer for daring to carry the hopes of another generation._

_As I witnessed these horrors, all inclinations to understand such barbarism went out the proverbial door. The time for understanding was over. If this was how the human race was going to conduct itself, so be it. My only task now was to protect the ones I cared most about from such atrocity. I summoned more magnetic power than I had ever managed up to that point in my life. With it, I turned the weapons of the soldiers against them and used it to maim them in the same way they had probably maimed countless others. Only I didn't stop there._

_Flushed with anger and disgust, I rose up from the rubble and exacted my judgment on the rest of the soldiers. I took every piece of metal around me and formed a storm of shards with which I reigned down a terrible vengeance upon them. I looked down on them without mercy as these shards ripped the very flesh from their bones. Now it was their turn to cry out in agony. All their power and hatred was rendered completely meaningless in and instant. Now they were the victims and they showed that they were just as weak as the ones they were seeking to oppress. _

_While this was happening, Charles had emerged and was horrified by what I was doing. He tried to stop me, but I could not. These humans had sealed their fate. They revealed to me the truth I had been seeking. Humanity was never going to escape it's brutal nature. It was always going to claim more victims. It didn't matter how innocent or pure those victims were. There was no escape and like my father before me, I would not let it stand. I would fight back with the power I had been granted that set me apart from these primates. With it, I killed every last one of those soldiers and didn't feel an ounce of remorse in doing so._

_When it was over, nearly everyone in the village was dead. But none of that mattered to me anymore. All that mattered was saving Magda. I ignored completely the concerns Charles voiced and rushed to get my wife and unborn children to a hospital. But I was too late. Magda would not make it. She would never even awake from her unconscious state to say goodbye or hold the children she bore. It would have been infinitely worse had Wanda and Pietro not made it, but by whatever miracle they were spared. The doctors delivered them via cesarean section mere hours before Magda passed away. With her death, any semblance of admiration or pity I had for the human race died as well._

The rage still burning within him, Magneto made another move on the chess board. He took a knight from the other side of the board and used it to take an opposing pawn. It was an appropriate summation of what he came to believe about humanity and the constant struggle between the weak and the strong.

For decades of his life he struggled to understand the depths of human conflict. He sought vindication and absolution from the horrors he experienced as a child. Could there truly be progress? Could the evolution of mutation be the key? It seemed like a philosophical struggle with intellectual obstacles. That was before the truth was revealed to him in the beaten and battered body of his wife. The time for curiosity ended that fateful day. For each moment that followed, it would be another step towards war.

_In wake of my loss I severed my ties with Charles. He tried to reach out to me, but I could tell he was still disgusted by what I did. I also saw in him the same weakness I once had. His hesitation to use his powers when the moment called for it was a clear sign to me that he was weak. He no longer had anything to offer._

_As soon as Magda was laid to rest, I took my infant children to Switzerland where Madga's distraught sister, Marya, was waiting for them. She agreed to help me look after the twins while I put together the next phase in my life. Now that I had answers to the questions that had been plaguing me, the next logical step was to formulate a plan. What was going to do now that I had realized the futility of humanity? How was I going to make it right? I was blessed with this vast power. It would be irresponsible if not criminal of me to not use it. _

_I went through a bit of a reflective period while I struggled with this step. I divided my time between making sense of my new destiny and spending time with my infant children. Everything I did from that point forward was for them. I refused to let them come of age in the same corrupt world that I had endured. I was going to change it. I just didn't know where to begin._

_Once I set Marya up with a stable home in Switzerland with the twins, I went off on a new journey. This time the goal wasn't knowledge. This time the goal was preparation. My focus would be on the growing mutant population. I concluded that if humanity could not rise above it's barbaric nature, then the only avenue for genuine change was evolution. It is impossible for any species to escape their basic instinct without the forces of natural selection to guide them. However, I was not certain that the mutant race had evolved enough to separate themselves from humanity. I needed to be sure that I wasn't wasting my time. I had to find out before I put my next plan into motion._

_More years passed by while I sought these answers. During that time I sought out mutant communities all over the world. By this time the growing awareness of mutation had triggered a full fledged social issue. I watched in secret as mutants protested and thrust themselves into the public eye. I saw an uprising in India where mutants protested policies that automatically labeled them as untouchable. I saw protests in Africa to condemn laws that called for public executions of mutants because they were believed to be possessed by evil spirits. I saw a full fledged revolt in South America from mutants who had taken refuge in the jungle, trying to exact their revenge on the small towns and villages that exiled them. _

_This was all well and good, but I wasn't seeing anything different than what I saw from other humans who had faced oppression. I had yet to see a sign that they had evolved beyond their basic homo sapien instincts. But I kept looking. I had a gut feeling something would happen that would point me in the right direction. My patience eventually paid off in a profound way. Ironically enough, it happened on a little island called Genosha._

Magneto made another move on the chess board, using an opposing pawn to take a bishop. It was a rare move in chess, a lowly piece such as a pawn taking a piece that was by many measures far more powerful. Yet it was not impossible. It just required the right situation and the right conditions. The master of magnetism almost smiled when he thought about how this symbolized that fateful moment when he realized the true power of the mutant race. It was a moment that set him on a course that would eventually end with him in a prison cell.

_Genosha had always held a certain fascination with me. It was a tiny island surrounded by ocean, yet somehow this small nation was the sight of many wars. Over the centuries, there have been many epic conflicts for control over this island. That says nothing about the ominous mythology surrounding the lands. It is said they are cursed while being blessed at the same time. Whenever a power enters this land, they come out with strange stories and exotic new technologies (relatively speaking) to wield. It was a fascinating mystery that created a cycle of conflict that seemed destined to go on forever._

_However, it wasn't the conflict that captivated me. It was the unusually high mutant population that always seemed to emerge on this island. Over the centuries kings and tyrants have tried to expel all mutants from the island, seeing them as a threat or part of the curse. But no matter how draconian their methods, they never succeeded. Mutants kept coming back. By the time I returned for a visit, they had re-emerged after being nearly snuffed out by a brutal communist regime. That regime had since toppled and was replaced by a military dictatorship dominated by a displaced African warlord. He thought he could assert control over the island and his first order of business was to get the mutants of the island under his thumb. Only this time, the mutant population would not go quietly._

_Among them a charismatic if not slightly deranged leader emerged. I never learned his name, but his fellow mutants called him Zealot. He was a mutant with the power to manipulate Earth and soil. He was anything but dangerous on the surface, but his charisma rallied the mutants who did not have the stomach for another purged. I watched and even assisted at times as they organized themselves into a full fledged resistance. They managed to consolidate their powers and formulate a daring plan that would end this brutal reign quickly and efficiently._

_It started with half the mutant population forming a fortress and publicly taunting the warlord. They went so far as to declare themselves a new nation, separating their part of the island from the main Genoshan authority. The warlord foolishly took the bait. He sent the brunt of his army to attack the fortress and take them all down. In doing so he left his palace in the capital city very vulnerable. It provided Zealot and a powerful contingent of hand-picked mutants the perfect opportunity to strike the warlord right on his throne. They had a short window with which to operate and they used it wisely._

_The conflict lasted mere hours. While the warlord's army just began shelling the fortress, Zealot and his team infiltrated the palace and neutralized the elite guard. There were remarkably few casualties. Zealot cared more about making a point than exacting his vengeance on this warlord. When he finally cornered the warlord in his throne room, I expected the same result I had seen from every conflict of this nature. The warlord certainly seemed to expect it too. He was terrified at the prospect of what he would face. I expected the mutants he was leading to carry out the same barbaric cruelty I had seen from so many others. But that didn't happen._

_Rather than bludgeon the man to death, they had him order his army to stand down. Then they marched him into the streets of the capital, had him stand up on a podium, and publicly ordered him to admit he was inferior to the people he was trying to oppress and that he would leave the island with his army forever. The warlord hesitated, his pride keeping him from being so pathetic. But he did as he was told and Zealot made sure he stayed true to his word._

_Within a week, the warlord fled the country and never returned. For a time Genosha was at peace and mutants were once again free from another purge. They could have seized control of the country if they wanted, but Zealot was not a visionary nor was he all that competent. That didn't matter though. He proved something very important to me. He proved that he and the mutants that followed him could resist the primitive instincts that their predecessors were utter slaves to. The mere fact he was of questionable mental capacity only speaks volumes for the strength of the mutant instinct. This new race was more than just a fortuitous off-shoot of the human species. It was a true manifestation of evolution, capable of becoming so much more as a species._

_That answered my question. That showed me the path I must follow in confronting this corrupt human order. With a growing mutant population, the stage was set for a new dominant species to take over. The human order was never going to progress. The only way for peace to reign supreme was for mutants to rise up and wash away this tyrannical order. Since humanity seemed to be doing everything in it's power to hold mutants back, I took it upon myself to fight back._

Magneto's moves on the chess board became more instinctive. He no longer thought as hard before making each move. His brain was entirely focused, processing every potential angle within seconds rather than dwelling endlessly. He kept moving the pieces in and around the board, never taking any pieces. It was all about setting up the final push for victory. This was the focus that guided him in his new vision for the mutant race.

_I did not waste a moment with this new plan. I returned to Switzerland and spent time with my children, telling them about where our lives were going to go from here. They were mere teenagers at the time and had not realized the truths I had discovered. So while I laid the seeds for my plan, I had them travel to the same war torn areas I ventured to so they could see first hand the futility of the human race. I made sure Marya properly protected them so that when we reunited, they would be ready to follow me._

_While they were learning the harsh lessons of humanity, I was setting up shop on a rocky island that was rich in iron. It was just off the coast of New England and I planned for this to be my front for the this coming revolution. As I did this I made sure that every public record of my life was completely destroyed. I purposefully removed all traces and connections to the life I previously lived. I burned my passport, redistributed my bank accounts to anonymous names, and even had myself declared dead in certain areas so that I had no ties to any nation or government. I was to be my own man, completely set apart from the human order._

_I was excited at the prospect of uniting the mutant race. I thought it would be easy because mutants by now were a hot-button issue. Governments all over the world were seeking new containment strategies and the public wasn't getting any less hostile to mutant activities. Unfortunately, this trend was balked by the sudden re-appearance of my old friend Charles Xavier._

_I had heard he was afflicted with cancer. For a time I thought he was dead. Apparently, cancer wasn't enough to take Charles out of the fight. He was apparently inspired by our travels as well, albeit in the opposite fashion. He didn't seem interested in overthrowing this corrupt human order. He seemed more interested in keeping mutants integrated with this sick system of oppression. To do this he gathered a handful of young, eager mutants and turned them into masked vigilantes. At first I thought it was a pathetic attempt to win support. It turned out to be anything but pathetic because it worked._

_The X-men as he called them were heralded as heroes, cut from the same cloth as other costumed heroes. This was a dangerous development for my cause. The X-men became the public face of a new mutant agenda. There was no uprising or revolt in Xavier's tactics. He believed in foolish dreams that heroics would make people accept our kind. This forced me to re-evaluate my strategy. I couldn't just start preaching to despondent mutant populations and expect them to follow me. Not when they had champions in the X-men to look up to._

_Thus began my plan for the Brotherhood of Mutants. If Xavier was going to use a team, then so was I. At this point my children had completed their travels and were ready to fight beside me against the corrupt human order. I also enlisted the help of a skilled mercenary and spy named Raven Darkholme, who would provide me with the intelligence I needed to make my move._

_Over the next few years we conducted small operations, attacking individuals and groups who were militant in their anti-mutant agenda. We also gathered materials and resources with which to organize our revolution. This included advanced electronics, weapons, and communications equipment. Along the way we clashed numerous times with Xavier's X-men. I tried to keep those confrontations to a minimum, but Charles insisted on being pestilent. At one point he was such a hindrance I had to resort to extreme measures. I had Mystique locate Xavier's estranged nephew, Cain Marko. He had since gained tremendous power and called himself Juggernaut. As much as I respected Charles, I could not allow him to doom our species._

_The conflict that ensued later came to be known as the Great Unmaking. Mystique and I coordinated to unleash Juggernaut in downtown New York City. This would provide optimum media coverage for the X-men's failure and Brotherhood's rise. It turned out to be something entirely different. I once again grossly underestimated Charles and his X-men. They fought valiantly in the streets of New York, gaining worldwide attention as they engaged in an epic battle with Juggernaut. Entire blocks were leveled and many people were hurt, but the X-men played their hero role nicely. They saved lives as well as stood their ground. Juggernaut still battered and bruised them, but they managed to overcome his near invincibility. Charles, now bound to a wheelchair, joined in the battle to deliver the final blow. He used his psychic powers to take down his nephew. In doing so he won the battle and set the stage for a new phase in his X-men._

_Before the entire world and a curious public, he had most of his X-men take off their masks in front of the news cameras. They stood up in the center of Time Square and said their real names, declaring themselves to be mutants and proud of it. They proclaimed that they were out to use their powers for good. They were ready to serve mankind and foster peace between humans and mutants. It was an amazing spectacle and one that would make my task far more difficult._

Magneto stopped his seemingly chaotic moves with the pieces on the chess board. It seemed he had gotten ahead of himself yet again. The situation he was working towards had not turned out as he had planned. Now he had to stop and re-evaluate his strategy. Just as he had done with the Brotherhood, an unexpected obstacle had hindered his progress. Yet he never lost focus. He refused to give up on his goal.

_It was a bittersweet moment. Charles finally showed me that he was every bit as dedicated as I was. I could no longer look at him as week. I could not help but grant him my respect. I just could not let him get in my way._

_I wanted to continue my plan to unite mutant kind against our oppressors. I wanted Charles to be an ally, not an enemy. I gave him plenty of opportunities. I even organized an elaborate ploy with Weapon X to show him just how savage human beings could be. Yet that still wasn't enough. I had to establish my Brotherhood, build up our forces, and lead the uprising with the full knowledge that Charles Xavier and the X-men would be waiting on the other side. It would all take place where my vision had begun…Genosha._

_It was the perfect place for mutants to establish a front against the human race. In the years proceeding Zealot's revolt, the island nation plunged back into chaos again and was overtaken by an obscure yet ruthless dictator (as if there are any other kind). Once again, fear was used to rally humanity against a common foe. Just as the Nazis did to the Jews, Cameron Hodge and the powers that thought like him used mutants as a scapegoat. This was the new threat to humanity. This was who they were going to oppress. Only this time, there was one key factor they could not account for…evolution._

_Mutants by their own nature are more evolved than humans. They are the rightful heirs to this planet and there is nothing humanity can do about it. Hodge was ready to launch an all out war for his own selfish gain. I refused to let this be another holocaust and rallied all the mutants I could find in an uprising against his forces. I took thugs, outcasts, and the impoverished from mutant communities all over the world. With my Brotherhood leading the way, we were poised to overthrow Hodge and take over his precious sentinels. The ultimate plan was to let him go through the trouble of developing the mysterious Genoshan technology and then usurping it so that mutants would have the ultimate edge. Overnight, we would become the most powerful nation on Earth and mutants would be dominant and humans would be hated and feared. It would have worked too were it not for Charles Xavier._

More anger consumed the master of magnetism. He made another move on the chess board, callously bumping one of the knights with a bishop. It put one side in position to take down the king. It seemed like a winning movie, just as his uprising had been on Genosha. But like the game of chess, victory could never be premature. Overconfidence was the greatest enemy of those who wielded power. It was an enemy he struggled with on more than one occasion and he paid the price for it.

_I once again underestimated Charles Xavier. I don't know if he and his X-men are that skilled or just plain lucky. All I know is my mutant forces had Hodge's army with their backs against the wall. Even after he deployed the sentinel's high-powered energy weapons, we still had the advantage. I had the benefit of good intelligence. Mystique had been spying on Genosha for quite some time and she knew exactly how to disrupt the communications network that guided the sentinels. With my powers, I could turn the tide in an instant. That's when Charles made his move._

_He and the X-men managed to rout Hodge from his hiding place and get him to stand down. They also managed to strike a deal with my own daughter, getting her to cease hostilities as well. Somehow they even managed to hack the sentinels and shut them down. Then that pet they call Wolverine robbed me of my destiny. Everything came falling down like a house of cards. My plan failed, but at the same time the mutant race had not lost._

_While I was taken in like a common criminal, Cameron Hodge and his tyrannical regime was overthrown. The mutants of my uprising had nowhere to go and since the humans on the island were so battered by Hodge's tyranny, they chose to leave. Now the island is in a precarious state. The mutants dominate it, but not with true authority. Militaries from all over the world occupy this tiny island and there's no clear future for it or the mutants. That in turn gives me hope._

_It may seem strange seeing as how I'm locked in a cell in one of the most secure prisons on the planet, but it's true. There is still hope that my vision for a mutant dominated world will come to pass. My children are still out there. They have their share of authority on the affairs of Genosha (at least Wanda does). They may not stir revolution, but they will keep the embers warm until I can make my next move. Right now they need only keep the world balanced. The humans cannot be given a reason to spark a war against our brethren. In this instance Charles is doing me a favor because I know he and his X-men won't let that happen. That's all for the best because it gives me time to work out the backup plan I've had in the works since before the uprising even began._

Another smile crept across the old holocaust survivor's face as he made another move, this time putting pressure on the opposing king. The game was almost over. He could feel it. All the pieces were in place. It was only a matter of moving them in the right way to complete the final task.

_Humanity is going to learn the hard way that they cannot stop evolution. Sooner or later, homo sapiens will have to yield to homo superior. We are the future. We are the next stage in the unfolding story of life. It's going to happen sooner or later so it might as well be sooner._

_The pieces are already falling into place. I may have underestimated Charles, but he and all those who dare to oppose me continue to overestimate their worth. I may be confident and a tad arrogant, but I'm no fool. I never leave anything to chance. My children will see to it…including Lorna. She is an unexpected piece, but one that will contribute in her own unique way. She may not have entered this world under the same pretense as Wanda and Pietro, but she is still my daughter and she is still a vestige of homo superior. _

_She and all the mutant children coming of age will be there to witness the final act of this evolutionary struggle. Before I draw my last breath, I will see to it that my people never endure another holocaust. The humans will fall. The mutants will rise. And nobody…not Charles Xavier…not the X-men…and not even the collaborative militaries of the world shall stand in my way. Our time will eventually come. Prison or no prison, the evolution of mutant kind will continue. Like a game of chess, the time to strike will soon arrive. And when it does, I will be ready._

Still smiling intently, the master of magnetism made a final move with his rook. With it, the game was over. The opposing king had fallen. One side lost while the other stood victorious. This was how the conflict between humans and mutants would unfold. There could be no draw. One side had to prevail while the other had to submit. This was what nature had ordained. Those that tried to resist were doomed to fail.

Even in a plastic prison, Erik Lensherr remained as poised and confident as he had since the day he began this journey. He had gone from a victim of the holocaust to the key to his peoples' salvation. His uprising may have failed, but his ultimate dream never faded for an instant. He was going to eventually succeed. That much he was confident of. Every one of his enemies, including his old friend Charles Xavier, would have to submit. If they were in a chess match they would have already lost their key pieces. Magneto still had his and it was only a matter of time before he used them to their full effect.

"Checkmate," he said as used the rook to knock over the opposing king, "Soon, my mutant brethren…soon."

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**End of Supreme Reflections Volume 1**

**AN: This is the last entry into this volume of reflections. I plan on doing another series like this after Volume 2 with different characters. Right now, I'm hard at work getting Volume 2 ready for launch! It promises to continue the saga began in Volume 1. I don't have a name for the volume yet or the name of the first chapter. I am keeping that secret until I have a full preview ready, which should be soon. Check in with my website or check my fanfiction profile for updates. Until then, I deeply appreciate all the support I've had thus far. Please remember to review every aspect of X-men Supreme when you get a chance. I'm striving to make this the best series it can be and feedback helps a great deal. Either post it here or send me an email. Until next time, take care and best wishes!**

**MarvelMaster616  
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